


This Is Me Trying

by cheekyhobbit



Series: Folklore [2]
Category: Dawson's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, But I promise a happy ending, F/M, I will post warnings in the notes, Mention of Statutory Rape, Mention of underage drinking, Mentions of Non-Consensual Sex, P/Jo, Pacey and Joey meet for the first time as adults, Pacey/Joey AU, Poey, True Love, and definitely not glorified, but traumatising, i mean doesn't everything, jacey au, nothing graphic, sequel to Sparks Fly, some parts of season 1-2 are canon, this might get a bit dark, title and chapter intro belong to Taylor Swift, what happens after Joey moves to Capeside to be with Pacey
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:35:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 26,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheekyhobbit/pseuds/cheekyhobbit
Summary: A sequel to 'Sparks Fly' - a Pacey/Joey AU where they met for the first time as adults (25yo). You should definitely read that one first for context.
Relationships: Joey Potter/Pacey Witter
Series: Folklore [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2196219
Comments: 36
Kudos: 45





	1. The Beach House

**_I just wanted you to know_ ** **_  
_ ** **_That this is me trying_ **

* * *

Joey lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. Faint cobwebs hung from the high rafters, and the sheet pinned over the half-open window fluttered in the morning breeze. Next to her on the bed, Pacey was still softly snoring. Shifting onto her side, she gazed at him. In the six weeks since she’d uprooted her entire life and moved to Capeside to be with him, she’d never regretted her decision. Questioned her sanity, sure. Wondered if she’d ever get a job again that would pay what her last one had, of course. But regret? She had none of that. 

Reaching out with a finger, she gently traced the scar on his cheek, barely visible above his scruffy facial hair. Pacey’s skin flinched slightly under her touch, and he growled low in his throat. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He opened his ocean blue eyes and looked at her in that soft way that made all the butterflies inside her stomach quiver and dance. 

“I don’t believe you,” he murmured. 

Joey smiled. “Okay, you got me. I’m cold.” 

“Aww.” He lifted one arm and Joey snuggled closer to him, seeking out his body’s warmth. She wasn’t really cold, but she could never get too close to him. Pacey wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his embrace. 

“Better?”

“Yep.” She buried her head in the crook of his neck, and he lightly kissed her forehead. 

‘What time is it, Jo?”

“I don’t know. Early.”

She felt him sigh. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“I don’t even know why I’m so nervous,” she complained.

He ran his fingers through her tousled hair. “Because she’s your best friend. You want to impress her.”

Joey pulled back slightly so that she could see Pacey’s face. He was watching her with a serious expression. “But if she’s my best friend, shouldn’t I be excited to see her?”

“Aren’t you?”

“I don’t know. Kind of.” 

“If you’re worried that she won’t like me, I can attempt to seduce her.”

Joey snorted. “How’s that going to help? Actually,” she added thoughtfully, “that might come up. She told me that she attempted to seduce David one time while we were dating.” 

Pacey frowned, a faint look of displeasure crossing his face at the mention of her ex’s name. “She did? What kind of best friend _is_ this girl, Joey?”

“The loyal kind. She did it to test out if he would cheat on me.”

“Right.” He shook his head slightly. “And did he?”

“No. So if you want her to like you, I suggest you restrain yourself.”

“I’ll try. Is she hot?”

“Pacey!” 

“What? It’s a fair question. Ow! Okay, okay, I’ll be good!”

Joey let go of his earlobe, which she’d pinched tightly between her thumb and forefinger. “Don’t make me do that again,” she teased. “Loyalty is a highly desirable trait in a boyfriend.”

“It is?” He rolled over onto his back and reached for the drawer in his bedside table. 

Joey propped onto her elbow with a frown. Her stomach swirled anxiously. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sure I’ve got a notepad and a pen in here somewhere…” He grinned as she grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back toward her. 

“You don’t need to take notes, Pacey. Just be yourself.”

“That’s not usually the best way for me to make a good impression on someone.” 

His tone was light, but she saw the anxiety in his eyes as he lay on his back, propping one arm behind his head. 

Joey rolled over until she was lying on top of him, and kissed him between his eyebrows. “Worked on me, didn’t it?”

Pacey grinned, his hands sliding down to her hips, pulling her against him. “Yeah, but you’re easy.” Joey’s mouth dropped open in mock offence, and he laughed. “I’m just kidding.” 

She scowled. “You’d better be.”

“I am. I promise.” His hands roamed underneath her loose t-shirt, sliding up to her shoulders and pulling her closer as the fabric bunched up across her shoulderblades. “Come here, Potter.”

Joey let her body melt against his as he kissed her passionately, drowning herself in the sensation of his lips, his tongue, the soft moans deep in his throat, the way his hands explored her body. She loved kissing Pacey. Loved everything about being with him. But there was an elephant in the room that neither of them had yet acknowledged. It lurked in the corner, mostly silent. In daylight hours, when they were working on the beach house, sailing on his boat, making breakfast or eating lunch or cooking dinner, it was barely there, unacknowledged. It was only after dark, when they slipped into bed together, pressing their bodies against each other as his lips sought out hers, that the elephant appeared. Perhaps it wasn’t an elephant, Joey thought hazily as Pacey’s hands slid down her back and cupped her ass, pulling her closer. Perhaps it was something less obvious, but far scarier. Something that made the pit of her stomach clench, that sent a shiver down her spine, that jolted her out of the moment in a blast of cold sweat. Something that lurked in the shadows, occasionally letting out a low growl to remind her that it was there. A bear, perhaps. Or a wolf. 

Pacey’s hands stilled, and his kisses slowed. “You okay?”

“Mm hmm.” But Joey couldn’t stop the pounding of her heart. She swallowed around the tension she felt, and pushed herself off Pacey and back onto the bed next to him. “I should get in the shower. There’s a lot to do before Maggie arrives.”

She sat up and swung her legs out of the bed. Behind her, Pacey reached over and caught the back of her t-shirt. It was his, actually, a faded black Led Zeppelin tee that she’d stolen a few days after he moved in. Not that he cared. It looked better on her than it ever had on him. 

“Joey. Are we okay?”

She turned and looked at him over her shoulder with a smile. “We’re fine. Just busy, remember?”

“Right.”

She leaned across the bed and kissed him, then stood up and walked around the bed to the door. He watched her go, obsessed with the length of her legs, getting more tanned by the day as she worked side by side with him in the late summer sunshine. Her soft breasts and hard nipples hidden under his t-shirt, her long brown hair still mussed from sleep. He loved her more than he’d ever known it was possible to love someone, but he knew something was wrong. 

Joey left the room, and Pacey sank his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes, knowing he wouldn’t get back to sleep now. It was barely dawn, and just a sliver of cold light was visible through the gap where the old sheet they’d tacked up over the window didn’t quite reach all the way across. He’d put the sheets up for privacy, but they hardly seemed necessary. It wasn’t that Joey wasn’t into him. He knew she was. That first night, when she’d come back to Capeside and had gone to sleep with him on his boat, they’d fooled around a bit, exploring each other’s bodies with their hands and mouths. They’d taken it slow, on account of his injured hand and battered face, and the emotional upheaval she’d just been through. It hadn’t mattered to him, then. It had been enough that he could touch her, kiss her, open his eyes and just _see_ her whenever he wanted to. She’d spent a couple of weeks with her sister while she got the purchase of the beach house finalised, and had resisted his efforts to christen the place before they’d even moved in, citing a preference to be on an actual bed before they did much more than dry humping. He’d been happy to wait, but that was almost a month ago. His hand and his face had healed, and while he enjoyed the after-dark activities that they did engage in, loved the feel and taste of her, the way she squirmed and bucked her hips under his mouth, the way she wrapped her hand around his hard length and drove him wild, there was something else, something major, that they still hadn’t done. He hadn’t thought too much about it, at first. Had been happy to wait. It made sense, and he could tell from the few things she’d said and the responses she’d given him that her sex life with David had been significantly lacking in the orgasm department. He’d taken his time, giving her everything she’d never had, but there was one final step she didn’t seem willing to take. 

The problem, Pacey decided, wasn’t that he had to wait. He could wait for her. It was that she didn’t seem to want to talk about it. For two people who’d been brutally honest with one another from the day they’d met, it bothered him more than he cared to admit that she was holding something back. They were going to have to talk about it soon, whether she wanted to or not. This problem wasn’t going to go away just by wishing it. 

He heard the shower running, and closed his eyes. Now wasn’t the time to push the issue, not with how on edge she was over Maggie’s imminent arrival. And with Joey’s best friend due to stay with them in Capeside for the entire weekend, and the only other furnished bedroom being right through the wall from theirs, he suspected that any sexual activity was going to be put on the back burner for a couple of days. 

Pacey sat up and swung his feet to the floor. As usual, Joey was right. There was a _lot_ still to do before Maggie arrived. 

“What d’you think?”

Joey frowned at the paint sample on the wall. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He sounded exasperated. “How can you not know?”

She glared at Pacey. Well, she tried to. She couldn’t ever be annoyed with him for long, and she felt her expression shift into a smile as he responded with his most disarming grin. 

“This isn’t the kind of thing you just decide, Pacey,” she insisted. “This is important.” 

“I beg to differ. The difference between _Driftwood_ and _Indian River_ is negligible at best.”

“They’re completely different colors, Pace.”

“They’re both brown.”

“Taupe.”

“Whatever.” She sighed, then turned and left the room. “Where are you going?” he called after her. 

“To call Bessie for a second opinion.”

He followed her into the bedroom. “Third opinion.”

“Not if I don’t count yours.”

“Wow, Jo.” He flopped onto his back on the unmade bed. “You really know how to make a guy feel important.”

“Thanks. I’ve been honing those skills for years.” She picked up her phone off its charging cradle. “Now why don’t you make yourself feel useful and make the bed?” Joey slapped his leg playfully as she headed for the door. “And get your shoes off my sheets, you cretin.”

“She’s only going to tell you the same thing I just said!” Pacey called down the hall. “Brown is brown is brown, Jo!”

“I like the one on the left.” Bessie stood with her hands on her hips, looking at the paint samples that Pacey had rollered onto the wall.

“Left or far left?”

“Far left.”

“Uh, that’s Smokey Beige.” Joey frowned at the swatches in her hand, then back at the wall. “Don’t you think it’s a little...insipid?”

Pacey rolled his eyes at Alexander, having taken possession of the baby as soon as Bessie walked into the house. “What about you?” he asked Alex. “Any thoughts you want to share on the particular shade of brown - sorry, _taupe_ \- that Josephine here should choose? What’s that?” He leaned down, his ear close to the baby’s face. “ _Driftwood_ , you say? Funny, that’s my choice too.”

Joey shot him a look over her shoulder. “You only like it because of the name.”

“So?”

“You’re impossible.”

“And _you’re_ impossible to please.”

“Sucks to be you, then, doesn’t it?”

“Are you two sure you’re not married yet?” Bessie asked, looking from one to the other with amusement. “You’re already bickering like a couple in their eighties.” 

“Ha ha,” Joey deadpanned, but Pacey didn’t miss the blush that rose to her cheeks. She turned back to her sister. “ _Smokey Beige_ is honestly your favorite?” she asked, brow furrowed.

“No. Nothing beige could ever be my favorite,” Bessie retorted. “If you want my honest, unfiltered opinion, I don’t like any of them. You should pick something brighter. A nice bright blue or sea green. Or a cheerful yellow. Something that really livens the place up a bit.”

“Yellow?” Joey asked in disbelief.

“Why not?”

“It’s the living room. It’s supposed to be neutral.”

“It can be whatever you want, Joey. That’s the joy of decorating your own house,” Bessie insisted. “Put up some textured wallpaper, paint your own mural on the wall. Do whatever you want.”

Joey shook her head in disgust. “I don’t know why I’m even asking your opinion.”

“Neither do I,” Bessie said. “You’ve never listened to my advice one day in your life.” Joey’s eyes skittered across to Pacey, who was lifting Alexander up and blowing raspberries on his stomach, grinning as the baby kicked his legs exuberantly. “Okay, maybe once or twice. And look how well _that_ turned out,” she added.

Blushing, Joey turned back to the wall. Watching Pacey with Alexander never failed to get her hot and bothered in a way she wasn’t quite ready to explore just yet. “I don’t want to get it wrong. What if we paint the whole room and it looks terrible?”

“Then you try something else,” Bessie replied casually. “It’s not that big of a deal, Jo. If at first you don’t succeed, give Pacey a roller and make him try again.”

“On behalf of Pacey’s arms and shoulders, I would like to request that I _don’t_ have to do that,” he said from behind them, settling Alexander against his shoulder. There were still paint splatters in his hair from painting the bathroom and guest bedroom, both of which had been painted a simple half Spanish White. His shoulders ached from the constant painting, but he didn’t mind. Any time he got to spend with Joey by his side was time well spent, in his opinion. “Why don’t you ask Maggie, when she arrives? She’s supposed to be stylish and sophisticated, right?” 

He jiggled Alexander in his arms, and the baby gurgled happily. Joey’s heart expanded in her chest as she watched them, but a sarcastic retort rose to her lips before she could censor herself. 

“A lot more stylish and sophisticated than you, that’s for sure.”

He shrugged, unoffended. “That’s a low bar to clear, Jo.”

“True. If I left the decor up to you, you’d be hanging some garish Hawaiian print wallpaper,” she teased.

“See, now you’re talking. Sounds good, right Alex? Palm trees, a sunset, deserted island -- think of the ambience.” Alexander let out a muffled sob, and Joey smirked as Pacey snuggled the baby against his shoulder, his hand cupping his head of curls. “Okay, okay. You’re right. Sailboat wallpaper it is.”

The baby’s cries eased as Pacey walked back and forth across the room, settling the eight-week-old effortlessly as he hummed tunelessly to him. Joey couldn’t tear her eyes off the pair of them until Bessie leaned in and spoke under her breath. 

“God, you’re so horny.”

Joey scowled at her. “Shut up.”

“So when does the Maggot get here?” Bessie asked, taking a seat on the old brown couch in the middle of the living room. 

“Don’t call her that. And this afternoon, sometime. I think.”

As she spoke, the crunch of tyres on gravel turned her head. Pacey walked over to the window, Alexander still in his arms, and looked outside. 

“I think your friend might be running early, Jo.”

Maggie looked up at the derelict beach house with scepticism. Ever since Joey had told her that she’d left the man of her supposed dreams for another man who fit absolutely none of the criteria they’d both agreed was absolutely necessary in a future partner, she’d been living in a state of disturbed equilibrium. When Joey had quit her job and moved to a small coastal town to live in some two-storey fixer-upper with this new man -- a man who didn’t have his GED, worked a minimum wage job and lived on a boat, for crying out loud -- Maggie had been so shocked that she’d stopped talking to Joey entirely for a couple of weeks. It was one thing for her friend to get cold feet over a proposal and break up with David. It was another thing entirely for her to uproot her entire existence for the sake of a man she’d only just met. It just felt so out of character for her best friend to do something like this. 

And when Joey had told her that actually, this decision _was_ in character, and that she’d been living a lie ever since Maggie had known her, she’d felt bereft. She’d thought that she’d lost her best friend that day. At first, she’d just been waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Joey to realise that what she was saying was certifiably insane, but with each email that Joey sent, detailing her new life in Capeside, Maggie had started to doubt her own convictions. As the emails piled up, read but unanswered in her inbox, her curiosity had grown. What was it about this ‘Pacey’ guy that made Joey like him so much? Eventually, she’d put her hurt pride to one side and responded to her friend’s missives, thanking her for staying in touch and saying she’d like to meet Pacey some day. Joey had immediately and eagerly invited her out to the Cape to stay with them, and despite her own misgivings, Maggie had accepted. She needed to meet Pacey for herself -- and if this new Joey was the _real_ Joey, then Maggie needed to meet her, too. 

She pushed her sunglasses up onto her head and shut the car door as Joey came strolling around the side of the house with a broad smile. She was barefoot, wearing cutoff denim shorts and a white racerback top with a hot pink bra underneath. Her hair was loose and wavy, and she was more tanned than Maggie had ever seen her before. She already looked like a completely different person, and Maggie’s stomach tightened nervously. _Who are you?_ She wanted to ask. _What have you done with serious, studious Joey Potter?_

“Hey, you made it!” 

“You seem surprised.” Maggie approached her friend, her kitten heels crunching on the gravel path. They met on the edge of the lawn, and Joey flung her arms around her and gave her a warm hug. Maggie was startled by the display of affection -- they’d never really been hugging people before -- but gently returned the hug before her friend released her. “I did send an RSVP.”

“I know. I’m just happy to see you.” Joey tucked her hair behind her ear and bit her lower lip, both familiar gestures that put Maggie slightly more at ease. Except that she knew both those things meant Joey was nervous. _Well, that makes two of us._ “How was your drive down?”

“Fine. Traffic was light.”

“Good. And you clearly found us okay.”

“Uh huh.” They stood awkwardly for a moment as Maggie looked around again. “Interesting place.”

“I know it’s not much at the moment, but we’re working on it. It’ll be amazing in six months, I promise.”

Maggie smiled. “I believe you.” Her gaze travelled across the lawn, taking in the sprawling oak tree with two Adirondack chairs positioned underneath it, the edge of the creek at the bottom of their lawn. “I thought you said this place was on the beach.”

“Well, sort of. The beach is that way.” Joey pointed toward the sea. “It’s a short walk. But we’ve got our own creek access. There’s no dock down there yet, but Pacey’s planning on putting one in next summer.” 

“So he can park his boat right outside?”

“No, the creek’s too shallow for that. She’s down at the marina. I can show you later.” 

“Can’t wait.” 

Maggie’s delivery was dry and unimpressed, and Joey shifted her weight to the other foot. _Why can’t you just be happy for me?_ she thought irritably to herself. She knew Maggie didn’t approve of her recent life changes, but she was also supposed to be her best friend. Didn’t that mean she was supposed to have Joey’s back, no matter what? 

Bessie came out of the house with Alexander, who had started to cry. Pacey followed behind them, his hands in his pockets. Joey could see that he was as nervous as she was, and wanted to tell him again not to worry. She was under no real illusions that he was going to have anything in common with her friend, or that he’d even particularly like her. But she wanted Maggie to like him, even so. Fortunately, Pacey could charm anyone. Just then, he was charming Alexander, distracting the baby from his cries by playing peek-a-boo with him as they walked across the lawn. 

“Hey, Jo. We’re heading home, this one’s ready for his lunch.” Bessie looked at Maggie and produced a tight smile. “Maggie, how are you?”

“Fine, thanks Bessie. Nice to see you.” They were forcibly polite with each other, their mutual dislike evident. 

Pacey watched in vague amusement as Maggie congratulated Bessie on the birth of her son, whose squally cries increased in volume as they spoke. 

“You don’t have to take him home to feed him,” Joey protested as Bessie rubbed the infant’s back soothingly. “I thought you were going to stay for lunch.”

“Not today. I don’t want to get in your way,” Bessie said. “You’ve got company to entertain, and Alexander needs a nap. As do I.”

“Okay,” Joey said softly, stepping in for a quick hug which Bessie returned one-armed. “Drive safe.”

“I always do.”

Bessie went to her old VW, and Pacey stepped ahead of her and opened the passenger door so she could get Alexander into his car seat. She smiled gratefully at him, and Joey could see them exchanging words as her sister buckled her son into his car seat, but Alexander’s wails drowned out their words. 

Bessie stepped back, and Pacey shut the car door, muffling the sound of the baby’s cries. 

“Thanks, Pace.”

“Any time. I’ll stop by later and have a look at your washer, see if I can’t fix that leak for you.”

“You’re a handy man to have around.” 

Pacey grinned. “That's what she said.”

Bessie snorted as she got into the car and started the engine, and Pacey waved to Alexander before walking to Joey and standing next to her. Resting one hand on the small of her back, he smiled disarmingly at Maggie and held out his hand. 

“Sorry, rude of me not to introduce myself before. I’m Pacey.”

“I figured. Maggie.” She shook his hand, her expression inscrutable. “Nice to finally meet you.”

“Likewise. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He dropped his hand to his side. “Looking forward to finding out just how much of it is true.”

Joey glared at him. “Watch it, Witter.” 

“Sorry, darlin’.” He dropped a gentle kiss on top of her head. “I’ll go mind my manners in the downstairs bathroom. Fixing the pipes,” he told Maggie by way of clarification. “Don’t worry. We do have running water and flushing toilets -- in _some_ parts of the house. Just not all of it - yet. Joey did mention the words _fixer-upper_ , right?”

“I did, but I was referring to you,” Joey quipped. 

Pacey clutched his heart in mock anguish. “Josephine, your words cut me to the core.”

“You’ll get used to it,” she replied with a smile, and he grinned back at her.

“I didn't realise you were a part-time plumber,” Maggie commented. “Joey told me you were a chef.”

“An exaggeration, on both counts,” Pacey replied. “My plumbing repairs are limited to the absolute basics, and I’m not exactly a culinary whiz, although Bodie’s been teaching me some of the tricks of his trade.” 

“And he says you’re a natural,” Joey reminded him.

Pacey shrugged. “Well, I try.” He looked over at Maggie’s car. “You all good here? Need me to carry your bags in, or--”

“We’ll be fine,” Joey told him, giving him a gentle shove away from her. “Go get back to work.”

“Yes ma’am.” He let his hand drop to her ass and gave it a quick pinch, making Joey jump. Scowling, she aimed a kick at his butt as he walked away, but he saw it coming and dodged to the side. He looked back at her over his shoulder with a cheeky grin. “You can try that again later, when we’re alone.” 

“I despise you.”

“Feeling’s mutual, sweetheart.” He winked at her, jogged the last few steps across the lawn and jumped onto the wide porch that wrapped around three sides of the house. 

Grinning, Joey looked back at her friend. “So, are you ready for the grand tour?”


	2. End of Story

**I'm like the water when your ship rolled in that night  
** **Rough on the surface but you cut through like a knife**

* * *

Pacey parked the Jeep outside the grocery store, but before he went in, he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket and hit speed dial 2.

She picked up on the second ring. 

“So, how’s it going?” he asked.

“You tell me,” Gretchen replied. “How’s life in the love nest?”

“Great.” Pacey didn’t tell her about his little problem. It wasn’t really a problem, anyway. Not yet. He sighed. 

His sister was perceptive to a fault. “Sure sounds like it.”

“It’s all good, Gretchen. Don’t worry about me.”

“I can't help it. It’s my default position.”

“Well, change the settings. Anyway, I want to know about Portland. What’s it like there?”

“Unseasonably cold.”

Pacey rested his elbow on the edge of his wound-down Jeep window and breathed in the muggy summer air. “Really? It’s hotter than ever here.”

“Are you just saying that because you’re looking at Joey right now, or do you really mean it?”

He laughed. “I mean it. She’s at home with Maggie.”

“Oh, right. How’s that going?”

“It’s fine. I don’t think she likes me much, but I didn’t expect her to. So far I haven’t done anything stupid, so let’s hope I don’t give her a reason to turn Joey against me.”

“I’d like to see anyone try. That woman’s head over heels in love with you.”

Pacey sighed. “So you keep saying.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“I do. I just...I don’t know how to be worth it.” 

There was a long pause on the end of the line. For a moment, he thought she’d hung up, tired of his endless self-loathing. Then she spoke again. 

“I want to hug you right now, and I also want to slap your stupid face.”

“I can slap myself if you want.”

“Shut up.”

“She threw it all away for me, Gretch.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “She tore up her entire life and moved here to be with me, and I just keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, and for her to figure out that she made a monumental mistake.”

“Look, Pace. If I could make you stop believing that, I would. But since I can’t, I’ll just say this. That’s always going to be her decision to make, not yours. All you can do is give her a reason to stay.”

“Be the perfect boyfriend.”

“No. Be yourself. She fell in love with  _ you _ , little brother. I don’t want to see you do again what you did when you met Andie. You gave up your entire identity to try and be the guy you thought she wanted.”  _ And it wasn’t enough _ . Gretchen didn’t say those words out loud, but Pacey heard them in the spaces between her sentences. “You have to be yourself, Pacey, or you’ll end up caught in a lie that will eventually burn you out.”

“Maybe. Or maybe when I was with Andie, I was the best version of myself. Maybe if she’d stuck around and we’d made it work, I would’ve graduated high school and gone to college myself.”

“Maybe. I guess we’ll never know.”

“Yeah. I gotta go.”

“Okay. Call again soon. I miss you.”

“Miss you too.” 

He hung up, but he didn’t get out of the car. Just sat there, staring at the grocery store, thinking. 

Joey sat down in the wicker chair and stretched her legs out in front of her, heels resting on the peeling paint of the deck. “So, what’s your verdict?”

“ _Driftwood_.”

“You said that already. Pacey’s going to be so pleased that you agree with him.” 

“At least there’s one thing we can agree on.”

“You don't like him, do you?”

“I don’t know him,” Maggie said. “He seems like a nice enough guy. And you seem happy here, with him.” 

“I am.”

“Good.” She raised her glass of iced tea as a toast, and Joey grinned wide as she clinked hers against it. 

“Cheers.”

Maggie crossed her legs and took a breath, determined to force the conversation. “I just want to know, what’s your plan?”

“ Who says I need a plan? I’ve spent my whole life making plans, and then it turned out I didn’t even want them to come true. So now I’m enjoying the freedom of having absolutely no concrete plans for the future.”

“Liar.”

Joey’s mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

“Come on, Joey. You forget how well I know you. You hate not having a plan. Besides, you’ve lived here a matter of weeks and you’ve already bought a house with a  _ plan  _ to renovate it.”

“Okay, that’s true,” Joey admitted easily. “So if you know, why’d you ask?”

“Because I want to know what you think will happen next. Once the house is done. Will you just stay here forever?” 

Joey shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Maggie sipped her drink. “I still don’t believe you.”

“Okay, fine. I do have a plan, actually. But it’s a secret.”

“Secret from who?” 

“Everyone.” 

“Everyone including Pacey?”

Joey shook her head. “No. He knows the plan. But he's been sworn to secrecy, so don't go after him.”

Maggie’s eyebrows lifted almost imperceptibly. “I’m glad to see that you’re in at least one honest relationship.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Whatever you want it to.” Maggie sipped her iced tea and gazed out over the creek. 

Joey screwed up her mouth. In the past, she’d have let that go. Let the silence fester between them, allowed Maggie’s comment to go unchallenged out of fear of upsetting her or causing a rift in their friendship. But that didn’t seem fair to her anymore. 

“I _want_ you to explain what you meant.” She kept her eyes on Maggie’s face, refusing to allow herself to back down, to avoid conflict. 

Her best friend sighed. “I meant that I’m still not over your lies, Joey. You lied to David and you lied to me.”

“I never lied to David.”

“No? So you were actually in love with him?”

“I thought I was at the time.”

“Really? Or was he just conveniently there and you were willing to settle for him?”

Joey bit her lip, trying to be honest. “Maybe, deep, deep down I had an inkling that I was lying to myself. But I didn’t think I’d find anyone else willing to put up with me.”

“So you settled.”

Joey frowned. “This is what I get for hanging around with lawyers. You keep putting words in my mouth.”

“That’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m trying to understand.”

“What’s to understand?” Joey asked. “I’ve told you the truth. I met Pacey. I fell in love with him. End of story.”

“I doubt that.” Off Joey’s insulted look, Maggie raised a placating hand. “That’s not what I meant. But there’s no  _ end of story  _ in a relationship. Every day is a new chapter, and every fight, every kiss, every moment is part of the story that you’re writing together.”

“That’s a poetic way of putting it.”

“It’s true.” Maggie swirled the rapidly melting ice around her glass. “So far, it seems like your story is going pretty well, but you’re still in the honeymoon phase.”

Joey narrowed her eyes. “Are you determined to bring me down?” 

“To earth? Yes. It’s not that I don’t love you Joey, or that I don't want you to be happy. Am I selfishly disappointed that you’ve moved away from Boston, away from me? Yes. I’ll admit that. I miss you. I miss our weekly coffee dates, our shopping trips, our Friday night drinks. I miss having you around.”

“I miss you too. But I’m just a phone call away,” Joey reminded her.

“It’s not the same.”

Joey tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’re the one who used to talk about moving to New York City and leaving me behind.”

“Wrong. I always wanted you to come with me.”

“But I was with David.”

Maggie nodded. “And now you’re here.”

“Which is closer to Boston than NYC,” Joey pointed out.

“Closer in distance, maybe. But it feels like we’re worlds apart. And if you stay here and marry Pacey, and have children with him...” Her voice trailed off. “If that’s what you want, I’m happy for you. I truly am. I’m not trying to say you shouldn’t do it, but it feels like if that happens, you and I won’t be best friends any more. In name, perhaps. But not in reality.”

“You’ll always be my best friend.”

“Will I? We barely have anything in common.”

“That’s not true. I haven’t had a complete personality transplant, Meg. I’m still the same girl you roomed with in college. Still have the same likes and dislikes, the same taste in food, the same crippling neuroses.”

“Speaking of that,” Maggie said, setting her empty glass down. “As one best friend to another. How’s your sex life?”

Joey baulked. “What? What is this,  _ Sex and the City _ ?”

Maggie shrugged. “I’m just curious, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“Because you two seem so loved up and affectionate, and I’ve never seen you like that before. All hands-on, touchy-feely, constantly flirting. You were always so restrained, a self-described prude who changed the channel when a graphic sex scene came on the TV. I know for a fact that you dated David for almost a year before you had sex with him, which I thought involved a Herculean amount of restraint on his part.” Maggie watched her friend blush fiercely. “You and Pacey have been together for six weeks now, and I want to know. How’s the sex?”

Joey stood up, collecting their glasses. “I’m not talking about this.”

“I’m your best friend. You’re supposed to talk to me about this,” Maggie protested, following Joey back inside the beach house. 

“Why? We’ve never had this kind of frank sexual discussion before.” Joey dumped the melting ice out into the sink and ran the faucet. 

“Only because you refused to talk about it, and I took pity on you and didn’t push it.” 

“So take pity again now.”

“Nope.” Maggie leaned on the kitchen counter, watching her friend. “You said we’re still best friends, so prove it. Tell me.” 

Joey stared at the potted herbs on the window sill, a house-warming gift from Bessie. Sage. Rosemary. Chocolate mint. Thyme. They were wilting slightly in the heat. 

“Will that make you happy?” she asked. “You really want to know? Fine. I’ll tell you.” She spun to face Maggie. “I haven’t had sex with Pacey yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” Joey crossed the open plan space and went into the living room, where she perched on the back of the couch, her fingers digging into the upholstery. “I’m scared.”

“Of him?”

“No! Of course not.” She closed her eyes and forced herself to say it out loud. “That I won’t be...any good. That he’ll be disappointed.”

“Is this because of David?” Maggie asked gently. 

Joey shrugged, opening her eyes and staring at her bare feet. She’d always been self-conscious about how long her toes were, had resisted wearing flip flops or going barefoot for years. Had never painted her toenails because it drew unnecessary attention to her feet. Her toenails were hot pink now, slightly chipped, because Pacey had found her nail polish and insisted on painting her nails for her. She loved him fiercely. She couldn’t afford to screw this relationship up. 

“You said it yourself. David told you that our sex life was terrible, and he was right. And it wasn’t his fault.” 

“You sure about that?”

Joey nodded. 

“Come on, Joey. It can’t entirely have been him. Maybe you two just weren’t compatible together.”

Joey shook her head, her eyes on the scuffed floorboards. They needed to be sanded back and re-varnished. She added the job to the list in her head, focusing on that instead of what Maggie was saying. 

“What about Brad?”

Joey looked up. “What about him?”

“You two dated for two years. You did have sex, right?”

“A couple of times.”

Maggie’s jaw dropped. “Only...really?” 

Joey rolled her eyes. “Brad’s gay, Maggie.” She saw the awareness dawn on her friend’s face. “He wasn’t out then, not even to himself at first, but I was his beard. And in a way, he was mine too.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that he was a safe choice and a place for me to hide.” 

Maggie stepped in front of Joey and placed a gentle hand on her arm. “Hide from what?”

The crunch of tyres on gravel interrupted them, and Joey straightened up quickly, her eyes going to the window where Pacey’s Jeep was visible through the glass. 

“Don’t say  _ anything  _ to him about this,” she warned Maggie, who nodded. 

“Of course not. I would never.” She watched Joey head back onto the porch, smiling a warm welcome to her boyfriend, who was unloading paper bags filled with groceries from the back seat. Maggie stared through the salt-stained glass as Pacey greeted Joey with an affectionate kiss, and sighed. “But  _ you _ should,” she muttered under her breath. 

Later that evening, Pacey was standing outside, turning steaks over on the grill. Mosquitos buzzed around his head, and he waved a hand at them dismissively. 

“Here.” Maggie set a citronella candle down next to him. The fumes wafted around them both, and the drone of the mosquitos eased slightly. 

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” 

He expected her to leave again, to go back inside and help Joey with salad prep, but she stayed. She held a glass of  rosé in one hand and slid the other into the pocket of her pale capris as she looked out over the creek. Pacey wondered if this was the part where she was going to flirt with him, like Joey had predicted. He hoped she wouldn’t. She was an attractive woman, with short dark hair and intelligent green eyes, but she wasn’t his type. Not that he had a type anymore. Not since Joey. She was the only one he wanted now. 

Maggie spoke first. “I have to admit, you’re not what I expected.”

He raised his eyebrows. “No? Were you predicting two heads, or a hump?”

She smiled. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“You thought I’d be better looking, is that it?”

Maggie shrugged. “It crossed my mind.”

He tried not to let that sting. “What I lack in looks, I make up for in other ways,” he assured her with a wink. 

“Such as?”

“Wit. Charm.” He flipped the steaks on the grill. “Culinary skills.”

“The ability to fix leaky washing machines?”

“Let’s hope so. Verdict’s still out on how long that lasts.”

“Hmm.”

“You think she made a mistake moving out here,” he said, because he knew she was thinking it and he might as well get it out in the open.

She narrowed her eyes. “What makes you think I think that?”

“It’s written all over your face. Don't worry, I get it,” he assured her. “I think that too, sometimes.”

Maggie seemed surprised by his frankness. “You do?”

“Sure. But that’s just my cripplingly low self-esteem rearing its ugly head.” He reached down and slapped his bare calf, squashing a particularly persistent mosquito. “Did you know that only female mosquitos drink blood?”

She raised her eyebrows. “Is that supposed to be a metaphor for something?”

He shrugged. “No. Just an observation.”

“Hm. I did know that, actually. They live longer than male mosquitos, too.” 

“Not all of them.” He grinned and squished another mosquito on his arm. “Maybe we shouldn't have bought a house so close to the creek,” he said, then corrected himself. “Joey, I mean. She bought the house. I just live in it.”

“You’ve lived here before though, right?”

“Yeah. Weird coincidence.” 

“Maybe. Or maybe it was fate.”

Pacey raised his eyebrows. “You don’t strike me as someone who believes in fate.”

“You only say that because you don’t know me very well.”

“Very true.”

Conversation stalled between them. Maggie sipped her wine slowly. Pacey looked over at the beach house, where he could see Joey moving around in the kitchen. 

“I’ve never seen her this happy.”

He looked back at Maggie. “Really?” His voice sounded high, hopeful.

“Really.” She smiled slightly. She was much prettier when she smiled, he thought. “I still don’t quite know what to make of it.”

“Of her, or me?”

She waved her arm in a wide gesture. “All of it. This enormous life change.”

“You know her better than I do,” he admitted, steeling his heart as he asked the inevitable question. The one he’d known he was going to ask. “Think it’ll last?”

“I don’t know. And I’m not even sure that’s true anymore. That I know her better, I mean. I’ve known her longer. That’s definitely true. But better?” She shrugged and downed the last of her wine. “Jury’s out on that one.”

“But you think she’s happy?”

“That much I know for sure. What I don’t know is how long it’ll last. That’s anyone’s guess.”

“Right.”

She sighed. Joey looked out of the window at them curiously, probably wondering what they were talking about. 

“Don’t give up on her, Pacey.”

He frowned, turning back to look at Maggie. “Me?”

“Yeah. She’s got...barriers up. Always has done. She’s let a lot of those walls down around you, I can tell. Honestly, I’m kinda jealous. She’s more open with you than she ever has been with me. Well, she was pretty open with me this afternoon. Which was weird, in and of itself. I think you’re good for her.” He grinned as she tried to take another sip of wine, forgetting that the glass was empty. “But she’s not perfect, so don’t try and worship her. You’ll only break both of your hearts.”

“You tell her this, too?” he asked, trying to sound flippant.

“Not yet. But I will.” Maggie smiled and patted his elbow. Her long nails grazed his skin, and he felt nothing. “Neither one of you is perfect. The question is, whether or not you’re perfect for each other.”

He recognised the quote. “ _ Good Will Hunting _ .”

“You’ve seen it?”

“My best friend growing up was a total cinephile. Still is, only now he’s making movies, not just watching them.”

“Dawson Leery, famous director. Joey filled me in.” Maggie twirled the stem of her wine glass between her fingers. “Seems like an interesting guy.”

“That might be an exaggeration,” Pacey said. “He’s coming home to visit next weekend. I could introduce you.”

“Thanks, but I’ll be in Key West next weekend.”

Pacey’s face lit up. “Yeah? That’s a great place this time of year.” 

“You’ve been?”

“Uh huh. Sailed myself down there one summer when I was a teenager.” 

“Right. Joey said something about that.” 

They both looked over as Joey came out of the house, a serving plate in her hand. 

“Are the steaks done?”

“Burnt to a crisp.”

She pulled a face at him, and he laughed. Maggie muttered something about needing more wine, and went back inside, passing Joey on the lawn. Pacey watched them exchange a couple of quiet words. He couldn’t hear what was said, but Joey was smiling when she came over to him.

“Everything okay?” she asked Pacey, holding out the dish. 

“Yeah. We were just getting to know each other.” He removed the steaks from the grill, hoping they weren’t too overdone. 

“And?”

“She’s not too bad to be around.”

She grinned, slipping her arm around his waist. “High praise, coming from the king of compliments.”

He kissed the top of her head. “Well, nobody compares to you.”

“That’s more like it.” She pressed her lips to his shoulder, kissing him over top of his shirt. He felt it through the fabric, right down to his bones. “I love you, Pace.”

“Love you too, Jo.”


	3. Stray

**_The more that you say, the less I know  
_ ** **_Wherever you stray, I follow_ **

* * *

The wind whipped across the water, stirring up small waves that set the  _ True Love _ rocking. Joey scowled as strands of her hair loosened from her ponytail, brushing across her face and obscuring her vision. It was hard enough to sketch as it was in this wind. She scowled down at the sketchbook, pressing one arm over the fluttering pages as she shaded in the shadows in her drawing.

“You know, you could just go below deck.”

“But the scenery is out here,” she replied, then looked up with a smile. “And so are you.”

Pacey grinned as he adjusted his fishing pole. “Good point.”

“Besides, I’m not a seasoned enough sailor yet to be sitting in the cabin in water this rough.”

“This isn’t rough water, Josephine.”

“All the more reason for me not to test my sea legs.” Her brow furrowed. “You know, my mom used to call me that.”

Pacey sat down next to her on the bench seat. He smoothed her hair back, tucking the loose strands behind her ears. “Josephine?”

She nodded. “But after she died, I wouldn’t let anyone call me by my full name any more.”

“Oh.” He lowered his hand. “Did you want me to stop?”

“No.” She smiled as she shook her head, and the loose strands fell forward again, fluttering against her cheek. “I don’t mind when it’s you.”

Pacey looked down at the light sketch of boats in the distant harbor, his heart lifting at her confidence in him. “I wish I could’ve met her.” 

“So do I,” she replied. “I think she would’ve liked you.”

“I hope so.”

Joey raised her head and looked at him curiously, her green-brown eyes fixed firmly on his blue ones. “When am I going to meet  _ your _ mom?”

Pacey flinched. “Why would you want to?”

“Because she’s your mother. She lives right here in town, and I’ve never met her.”

“You’re not missing out on much, Jo.”

“Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?” she countered. “It’s not like you never talk to her. You had dinner at her house last week.”

“Because it was her birthday, and Dougie guilt tripped me into it.”

“You didn’t invite me.”

“I didn’t want to subject you to that. Besides, Maggie was here. You wouldn’t have ditched her for the evening, and I  _ definitely _ didn’t want to subject your best friend to my mother. It would’ve lowered her already poor opinion of me. Nobody needs that.”

“She doesn’t have a low opinion of you,” Joey said. Pacey raised his eyebrows skeptically. “She likes you.”

“She tolerates me.”

Joey shook her head. “She told me when she left that she understood what I see in you.”

Pacey’s eyes widened. “She did?”

“Uh huh.”

“What else did she say?” 

_ If you really want this thing to work, you’re going to have to be honest with him.  _ Those had been Maggie's parting words, and they'd been on her mind ever since.  Joey pushed back the feeling of dread in her stomach and looked Pacey in the eyes. He was tucking her hair back behind her ear again, and he smiled softly at her. 

“She said she likes you. And then she warned me that once the house is finished, I’ll need to find another way to make you earn your keep.”

Pacey laughed. “Ever the pragmatist.”

“Yes. And don’t think you can just distract me from my earlier question. Your mom?” she pressed. 

He sighed. “Joey, you don’t want to have dinner with my mother.” 

He leaned in and tried to kiss her, but she pulled back. “What if I do?” 

Pacey let out a low murmur of frustration. “Are you planning on withholding affection until I do what you want?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.

“That depends. Will it work?” She turned her head away from him, looking out over the shifting ocean.

Pacey leaned closer, his breath warm against her neck.  “Yes,” he admitted.

“In that case, yes I am,” she told him with a smirk.

Pacey sighed, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Fine. I’ll give her a call, and we can go over there and you can see for yourself why I tried to save you from the experience.”

“Thank you.” She turned back to face him and found his lips with hers, easing them open with the tip of her tongue. Pacey growled deep in his throat as he kissed her back. “Easy tiger,” she grinned as they broke apart. 

“I can’t help it.” He reached for her, grabbing her by the hips and pulling her into his lap. “Any time that I’m around you, I just can’t stop--”

“Pacey!” She jerked rigid in his arms and pointed at his fishing rod, which was bent almost in half. “Fish!” 

He leapt up to deal with it, and Joey put her sketchpad down on the seat and sat on it to stop it from blowing away. She pulled her hair out of its tie and refastened it into a tighter ponytail as she watched Pacey reel in the fish. After a couple minutes of give and take, a large silvery fish broke the surface of the water, its mouth securely hooked with a bright lure. It thrashed violently on the end of the line, and Joey’s heart was in her mouth as Pacey brought it all the way in. He tossed it onto the deck of the boat, grabbed a nearby piece of pipe and stunned it with a well-aimed hit to the head. The fish instantly went limp, and Pacey hit it again to make sure it was dead, then grinned at her, his smile fading when he saw the look on her face. 

“What?” 

“Ouch.” Joey winced for the fish’s sake, even though it was dead now. 

“You wanted to eat it alive?”

“No. I’m just thinking that maybe it’s time to take a leaf out of Bodie’s book,” she mused. “Embrace the vegan lifestyle.” 

“Please don’t.” Pacey put the fish into a cooler with crushed ice, then stood up. “I’d be forced to follow you down that dark path, and I don’t know if I’d ever recover.”

“Oh please. He’d have you doing sunrise yoga in no time.”

“Save me.” Pacey opened the door to the cabin and stepped inside, letting his eyes adjust from the bright sunlight. He opened a drawer in the galley and was reaching for a knife when something soft brushed against his ankle. Pacey let out a startled cry as he spun around. “What the fuck!”

The thing -- whatever it was -- disappeared into a narrow gap between the galley and the bench seat inside the hold. Joey appeared in the doorway. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” He was holding the knife tightly in his hand. “There's something in here.”

“Something--?”

“Some kind of animal.”

“In the boat?”

“No, in the beach house.”

“Okay, you don’t have to be a smart ass.” She watched as he dropped onto his hands and knees. “What’re you doing?”

“Looking for it.” He peered into the gap. 

“What do you think it was?”

“I don't know.” 

He had his suspicions, but he didn't want to voice them out loud. He didn’t think she’d react too well, given her response a few weeks ago to the rats that had been exterminated from the beach house before they’d moved in. 

He needn’t have bothered. Joey was already backing away, climbing the stairs back to the main deck.

“If it’s a rat, I’m jumping overboard.”

“Rats can swim, Jo.”

“I can swim faster.”

“Sure about that?”

“With a disease infested rodent chasing me? Absolutely.” She was at the top of the stairs now. “Just come out and shut the door. We can lay a trap tomorrow. Or twelve.”

“I don’t think it’s a rat.” 

“What makes you so sure?”

“I’m not sure. But it brushed against the back of my leg.” He was on his knees, rummaging in one of the nearby drawers. “Rats usually run past or across your feet. Plus you can hear them skittering.”

Joey shuddered. “Pacey, I swear to god--”

He pulled a penlight out of the drawer, clicked it on and shone it into the space. Two glowing eyes looked back at him, and he let out a sigh of relief. “Well it rhymes with rat, but it’s not one.”

She didn’t move. “A bat?”

Pacey turned and looked at her incredulously. “You know, for a bright girl, you can be really daft sometimes. You think a  _ bat _ brushed against the back of my leg?”

She scowled at him. “Shut up. I was panicking.” Her expression lightened. “Is it a cat?” At his nod, she came back down into the cabin. “Let me see.” Pacey moved over, holding the light so she could see the small cat pressed into the narrow space, glowering at them. “Aww. It looks so scared.”

“Yeah.” He switched the penlight off, then stood up and put it back in the drawer.

“You’re just going to leave it there?”

“What do you suggest?” he responded. “If you want to reach into that space and pull it out, feel free. I know enough about cats to know that they have both teeth and claws, and they’re not shy about using either.”

He wasn’t wrong. “We could try and lure it out.”

He held up the knife. “Which is why I’m going to go clean that fish.”

Joey sat cross-legged on the floor in the cabin, staring into the dark space between the cupboards and the bench seat where the cat was hiding. 

“How’d you even get in here?” she asked the small feline. “Did you intend to be a stowaway? Were you searching for a life of adventure?” She smiled to herself. “I know that feeling”

Pacey was back shortly, holding some small pieces of fish innards. “Here, kitty kitty,” he said, setting the fish down just at the edge of the gap. He sat down next to Joey, shoulder to shoulder, both of them watching to see what happened next. 

It didn’t take long for the shadowy outline of a feline head to emerge from the shadows. The cat reached out with its paw and grabbed the fish, pulling it back towards itself before eating it within the narrow space. 

“Good kitty. Here’s some more.” Pacey placed a bit more fish a little further out into the cabin, daring the cat to come closer. 

This time, the head fully emerged. It was a tortoiseshell cat with mottled markings on a mostly dark coat, and its head was orange down one side and black on the other. It glared at them both suspiciously before gobbling up the piece of fish. Pacey continued feeding the cat, luring it further and further out of the narrow space until its entire body was visible. 

“She’s so skinny,” Joey said in dismay. 

The cat’s coat was dull, and her hipbones were visible through her coat. She was a small cat, and clearly hadn’t had a lot of love or nourishment in a long time. 

“Definitely a stray,” Pacey agreed. “Although it seems more pissed off than scared of us, so maybe someone loved it once. And what makes you think it’s a girl?”

“She’s clearly very intelligent,” Joey replied. “Plus, she’s tiny. Aren’t male cats usually bigger?”

“I don’t know.”

“Mine was,” she recalled. “His name was Romeo, because he was so affectionate. He was black and white, and about twice the size of this little girl.”

Pacey didn’t argue with her. “I bow to your superior knowledge.” He held the last piece of fish out to her in his fingertips. The cat glared at him, then sat down and started cleaning her face with her left paw. Joey smiled. 

“You never had a cat?”

He shook his head. “We weren’t big on pets in my house. We had a retired police dog for a while, but after he died…” Pacey’s voice choked up, and she put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing it gently. Losing a pet was never easy. 

“I cried for days after Romeo died,” she admitted.

“What happened to him?”

“A car hit him.”

Pacey closed his eyes, drawing in a breath. “I’m sorry.” 

“Yeah, me too.” She took the fish from his fingers and placed it on the floor in front of the cat, who quickly crouched down to start eating it. Joey reached across and ran her hand across the small feline’s back, feeling the lumpy ridge of her spine right beneath her skin. “Poor thing. I wonder how long she’s been on your boat.”

“I don’t know. Can’t have been too long.” He sniffed the air suspiciously. “I can’t smell anything.” 

“Because it stinks down here,” Joey retorted. “But I think you’re right. She must have snuck onboard while we were loading the boat this morning.” 

“It’s terrible manners to board without asking permission,” Pacey told the cat, who finished her fish and retreated back into her hiding space. 

“Maybe she’s a pirate.”

“That’s no excuse. Even pirates live by a code,” he said. “Didn’t you see those movies?”

“Only the first one.”

He shrugged. “That was the best one.”

“So I’ve heard. What shall we name her?” Joey asked, peering into the space where the cat had gone. 

He shrugged. “Pirate?”

“Hmm. Too generic.” Joey thought for a moment. “What about Tortuga?” 

“Because of her tortoiseshell coloring, or because of the eyepatch?”

“Both.”

He grinned. “I like it.” 

Tortuga settled into life in the beach house with surprising alacrity, although her disposition could hardly be described as cheerful. Joey took her to the local veterinarian to be checked over, and after flea and worming treatments, she was given a clean bill of health, aside from being severely underweight. But she had a voracious appetite, and with both of them feeding her every time she so much as looked at them, Tortuga soon became much friendlier. 

Joey was sitting on the couch a few nights later, teasing the cat with a toy mouse on a string when the phone rang. Pacey pulled it off the receiver and tucked it between his ear and shoulder, keeping his hands free to continue drying the dishes. 

“Potter’s Animal Rescue,” he said, ignoring Joey’s eye roll. 

He recognised Gretchen’s throaty laugh immediately. “What did you just say?”

“Turns out my better half has a penchant for rescuing lost causes.” 

“I already knew that. She's dating you, isn’t she?” Getchen teased. 

“I’ll hang up.”

“You wouldn’t dare. Is Joey there?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Can I talk to her?”

Pacey’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because I want to.” 

“Hm. Jo, there’s an interfering older sister on the phone wanting to talk to you.”

She tilted her head back and looked at him upside down. “Yours or mine?”

“Mine.”

Joey grinned. “Okay.” She held her hands up, and Pacey tossed the cordless phone to her before resuming drying the dishes. “Hey, Gretchen.”

“Hi Joey. Haven’t killed my brother yet?”

“Not yet. I’m just waiting for the most opportune time. Don’t want him to see it coming.” She winked at Pacey, who was still looking at her. “Besides, I’ve still got several rooms in this house that need painting.”

“Good point. Make sure you get as much free labor out of him as possible first.”

“That’s the plan. How’s Oregon?”

“Beautiful. We drove up to Seaside the other day. Literally, that’s the name of the town. Seaside,” she scoffed.

“This coming from the girl who grew up in Capeside.” 

“Okay, good point. Speaking of which, let me get to mine. Did you know that it’s Pacey’s birthday on Sunday?”

Joey’s eyebrows shot up. “It is?”

She sighed. “I knew he wouldn’t tell you. He’s got this real phobia about his birthday. Not that I can blame him, entirely. He does always seem to have the worst luck. But I wanted to warn you that if mother dearest tries to bully you into taking him home for a birthday dinner, don't do it. He’ll never forgive you.”

Joey’s heart sank. “Uh--”

“Don’t tell me you’ve already agreed to it.”

“No, no.” She stood up, and with a quick smile at Pacey, went into the next room so they could speak privately. “I haven’t even met her yet. But we’re going to dinner with her tomorrow night, and I did kind of bully him into that one.”

“You did? Why?”

“I wanted to meet her.”

“Again I ask,  _ why _ ?” 

She shrugged, her palm growing clammy against the phone. “Curiosity, I guess.”

“Curiosity killed the cat,” Gretchen replied ominously. “Well, at least it’s not his birthday. Are you venturing right into the depths of the Witter family home?”

“I think so.” She bit her lip. “Any advice for me?”

“Get sick. Don’t go.”

“She can’t be  _ that  _ bad,” Joey protested. 

“What makes you think that?”

“She raised Pacey, didn’t she?”

Gretchen was silent for a moment. “I don't think Mom can take too much credit for the way he turned out, unless you want to talk about the reasons behind his crippling insecurities. If anyone raised Pacey, it was me and my sisters. And the Leerys, when they were around.”

“Mitch is still around,” Joey reminded her. “He might not be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he’s a nice guy.”

She’d grown oddly fond of the man, despite his annoying habit of assuming that just because she was a girl, she couldn’t lift anything heavy or use even the simplest of tools. He also had a tendency to explain things in excruciating detail, while simultaneously referring to her as ‘one smart cookie’ and proudly telling everyone he met that Pacey’s girlfriend had graduated from Yale. They’d had some good conversations, her and Mitch, sitting on the back porch sipping coffee. He’d regaled her with anecdotes of Pacey as a boy, and if those stories were always laced with excessive pride in his own son, Joey couldn’t begrudge him that. She found it a little odd how much the grown man fawned over his offspring, but perhaps that was the trouble with only having one child to dote on, especially when that child had chosen not to live with you for the latter years of his childhood. 

Gretchen had chuckled at Joey’s description. “Did you know that the high school once hired him as a substitute teacher?” 

Joey winced. “Why?”

“No idea. He was also the football coach for a while, I think. And possibly also a guidance counsellor.”

“Yikes. Is he qualified to hold any of those positions?” she asked, her HR training kicking in. 

“Nope. But he’s a handsome white man, so he fails upwards in spectacular fashion.” 

“Always the way,” Joey commiserated.

“Yeah.” Gretchen cleared her throat. “Have you met Dawson yet?”

“Not yet. Mitch keeps saying he’s coming to stay soon, but the visit keeps getting pushed back.” 

“It always does. He’ll show up eventually, he pops in maybe once or twice a year. Walks all over Mitch and leaves again.”

“You’re not his biggest fan, I take it.”

“He was okay as a kid. He had a huge crush on me, which my whole family found hilarious. I thought it was kinda sweet, back then. But he came home for Thanksgiving the year that Pop died, and I’d gone home for it in a show of solidarity for Mom. Not that she cared. The whole ordeal was kind of a nightmare, so Pacey and I escaped and went to Mitch’s. Dawson spent the entire time blatantly hitting on me, and when I told him I had a boyfriend, he got offended and said I was reading too much into his friendly overtures.” 

“Sounds like a real prince.”

“He was a good friend to Pacey when they were little,” Gretchen conceded. “But Hollywood has blown up his ego to astronomical proportions, and now that he’s had a taste of success with that horror movie, he’s bound to be insufferable.”

Joey sighed. “Lucky me.” 

She walked back to the doorway and looked into the living room, where Pacey was lying on his stomach on the couch, gently stroking Tortuga’s back as she lay haughtily next to him on the floor, her tail softly thumping the floor in what Joey recognised as a clear sign that she was barely tolerating his touch. She wondered if she should warn him.

“If nothing else, meeting his friends and family can only help me to understand him better, right?” she asked Gretchen.

“Possibly. You seem to have a pretty good handle on him already, though.” 

Joey lowered her voice. “So, what  _ should  _ I do for his birthday?” 

“Ignore it.”

“I can’t.”

“That was your exact plan five minutes ago,” Gretchen reminded her. 

“Because I didn’t know it was happening!”

Pacey’s sister sighed. “If you must do something, wait until the evening,” she advised Joey. “Let him get through most of the day first. He thinks his birthday is cursed, because something awful always happens. So just stick by him, make sure he’s okay.” A long pause. “And whatever you do, don’t break up with him.”

“Never.”

“I hope not. Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

Joey felt the weight of that responsibility settle onto her shoulders, but she refused to let it get to her. After all, “I feel the same way about him,” she said.

She could hear the smile in his sister’s voice. “I know you do. I better go before this call costs me too much money, but it was nice talking to you, Joey.” 

“You, too. You want to say goodbye to Pacey?” she asked, walking back into the living room. “Wait, never mind. He’s asleep.”

“It’s not even eight o’clock yet.”

“On the west coast. It’s almost eleven here.” 

“Oh, yeah. One of these days I’ll get used to that. Well, goodnight.”

“Night.”

She hung up and returned the phone to its cradle, then went to wake Pacey up. She crouched down next to him and looked at his peaceful expression. His face was pressed into the pillow he’d propped under his head, and his eyelashes fluttered slightly in his slumber. 

She leaned over and brushed a kiss against Pacey’s hair. “Hey, you.”

“Hmm?” he murmured without opening his eyes.

“You gonna come to bed, or sleep right here?”

“Mm-hmm.” 

“Which one?”

“Here.”

She stroked his hair back off his face, and he half-smiled. “Okay.” Joey kissed him softly, on the cheek this time. “Sweet dreams, Pace.”

She was tired herself, but instead of going to bed, she eased herself into a sitting position, leaning back against the coffee table as she gazed at his sleeping face. She loved him so much that it was hard to breathe sometimes. She wondered if that feeling would ever fade, or if she’d feel like this forever. She couldn’t imagine ever getting tired of looking at him, of seeing him smile, or feeling his arms wrapped tightly around her, holding her close, keeping her safe. Tortuga climbed into her lap and curled up into a ball, quietly purring as Joey stroked her soft fur with her fingertips and sat still, just watching Pacey sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit for the opening quote as always to Taylor Swift, queen of the song lyrics for every occasion. 
> 
> I know I'm still teasing out the tension between them, all will be revealed in the next chapter.


	4. After Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some sexual content, description of non-consensual sex, and mention of underage drinking.
> 
> Also mention of the culinary abomination known as American chop suey. Consider yourselves warned.

**Wait for the signal and I'll meet you after dark** **  
** **Show me the places where the others gave you scars**

* * *

“So this is it, huh?”

Pacey nodded. “This is it.”

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel of his Jeep, staring through the windshield at the house in front of him. The house he grew up in, filled with so many memories. Some good, most bad. Funny how just looking at the place made his guts clench.

“We don’t have to go in, you know.”

Pacey turned to look at Joey with a disbelieving expression. “ _ Now  _ you say that?”

She bit her lower lip. She’d wanted to get this insight into his life, had pushed him when he’d tried to say no -- but now, looking at his face, she knew she shouldn’t have done that. He looked like he was about to led in to face a firing squad. 

“I…” She sighed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have made you do this.”

“You’re not making me do anything, Jo.”

“You wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t pressured you into it.”

He shrugged. “Probably not tonight, but I’d have to come by eventually.” 

“And you might as well do it with some moral support, right?” she asked hopefully.

“I guess.” The net curtains twitched, and he saw his mother peering out at them. “Too late to bail now,” he sighed. “But before we go in there, we should establish a code word.”

“A code word?” She frowned. “Code word for what?”

“In case you want to leave. At any time, just say the word and we’ll leave in a cloud of dust.”

“In the middle of dinner? Wouldn’t that be incredibly rude?”

“Please, just promise me.”

She smiled. “Fine, I promise. What’s the code word?”

“I don’t know. You decide. Something that won’t come up in conversation naturally.”

Joey thought for a moment. “Thoreau.”

“Thoreau?”

“Yeah. He’s a writer.”

“I know who he is. Walden pond, right?”

She grinned, reaching across the seat and pinching his cheek. “See? You aren’t as dumb as you look.”

He swatted her hand away with a sigh. “I’m starting to think you and my mother are going to get along. You're already reading straight out of her playbook.”

Pacey opened the driver’s door and stepped out of the Jeep. Frowning, Joey followed him. She shut the passenger door with a thunk that reverberated in the warm evening air.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You didn’t.” Pacey waited for her to reach his side, then put one hand on her lower back as they started up the path toward the front door. 

“Yes, I did.” Joey stopped walking and grabbed his hand, turning him to face her. “It was a stupid joke, and I take it back.”

“Why? You weren’t wrong.” He was still holding her hand. “I flunked out of high school, remember? And if you don’t, I guarantee my mother’s going to remind you in T-minus thirty seconds. Probably the moment we walk through that door.”

“Why would she do that?”

“In order to constantly remind me that I’m a disappointment to the Witter name.”

She huffed out a breath. “Are you going to do this all night, Pacey?”

“Do what?”

“Be a self-pitying sad sack.”

Pacey’s eyes widened. “Is  _ that  _ what I’m doing?”

“Yes, it is. And I’ll put up with it if I have to, because I’m the one who dragged you here, and I’m starting to think that you were right. Maybe we shouldn’t have come,” Joey said, her voice softening. “But I didn’t want my first time meeting your mom to be in the checkout line at the grocery store, or to be introduced by some third party who just assumed we knew each other. Because we live together Pacey, and I’m madly in love with you, and that means your family is my family now too. And I don’t have a whole lot of family left, so I’m willing to take what I can get.”

Pacey closed his eyes and sighed. “You’re scraping the bottom of the barrel with my family, but you’re also right. I’m sorry.”

“I’m always right. The sooner you get that through that very cute, not-remotely-dumb head of yours, the better.” Joey leaned in and kissed his lips softly, not caring that his mom was probably watching through the kitchen window. “Now that we’ve established that we’re both sorry, can we go inside and get this over with?”

“Fine.” Pacey kissed the tip of her nose, making her giggle. “Let’s g--”

He broke off at the sound of a siren’s whoop behind him, and he turned to see Doug pulling up in his patrol car. 

“Oh, great. Even better,” Pacey muttered. “Deputy Doug has come to join the party.”

“Evening, little brother.” Doug offered a shit-eating grin as he got out of his car. “Nice to see you with your clothes on this time.”

“You’ve seen me since then,” Pacey reminded him.

“True. But that was a scarring experience I'll never forget.” 

A comment about Doug’s predilection towards naked men lurked on the tip of Pacey’s tongue, but he bit it back, determined to be on his best behavior. At least Doug had taken the time to change out of his uniform and into civilian clothing before dinner. Pacey wasn’t sure that Joey would have been able to sit at the table with a uniformed police officer, given her stubborn refusal to ride in the patrol car a few weeks back when he’d borrowed it to take her out on a date. Her father’s arrest in front of their family home had left deep scars, and her hand was clenched tightly in his as Doug sauntered up to them with all the swagger of a small town officer of the law. 

“Evening, Joey.”

“Hi, Doug,” she replied with a tight-lipped smile.

They’d met before when he’d turned up at the beach house on the pretext of helping Pacey move in. The fact that Pacey’s belongings pretty much fit inside a duffel bag and a couple of cardboard boxes hadn’t deterred his older brother, and Doug had wandered through the entire house, making disparaging comments about the state of it and wondering aloud if Pacey was really up to doing the amount of work it was going to take to fix it up. Joey had seethed quietly at his remarks, but had kept her mouth shut, unwilling to cause a rift between the siblings. But if he started in on Pacey again tonight, she decided to herself as they followed Pacey’s older brother to the front door, the gloves were coming off. 

Doug knocked twice, then opened the door and walked into the wood-panelled living room. “Ma, we’re here!”

“Doug! I’m so glad you could make it.” 

Mrs Witter appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and greeted her eldest son with a broad smile. She was tall, as Joey had expected -- Pacey and his siblings had to have got their height from somewhere -- and blond, which Joey hadn’t expected, although she wasn’t sure why. The woman’s eyes were an icy blue, and she looked Joey up and down as she wiped her hands on a dish towel hanging over her bony shoulder. 

“Pacey, you’re here too. And you must be Josie.”

“Joey,” Pacey corrected her. “Her name’s Joey.”

“Of course.” The smile on her face never faltered, but there wasn’t much warmth behind her eyes. “Forgive me. It’s so nice to finally meet you, Joey. I was starting to think that Pacey was never going to bring you home. I thought maybe he was ashamed of me or something.”

“I’m not ashamed of you, Ma,” Pacey muttered. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs Witter,” Joey said politely, reaching out to shake her hand. 

“Oh, look at you! So polite.” Pacey’s mother shook Joey’s hand loosely. Her hand was cool, her palm clammy. “And you can call me Dee. After all, we’re all family here, right?”

“Let’s not jump the gun, Ma,” Doug objected, opening the fridge and pulling out a beer. “Pacey’s only known the girl for a few weeks.”

“But they must be serious about each other if they’re living together,” she replied. “I hope you like chop suey, Joey.”

“Uh, sure.”

“Great. And I have cherry pie for dessert. It’s Pacey’s favorite.”

Joey looked at her boyfriend in surprise. “Really? He told me last week he likes apple pie best.” 

His mother laughed. “He’s always loved cherry pie. When he was six years old, I made one for the annual sheriff’s dept picnic. Pacey wanted to help me make it, but he just made such a mess that I had to send him outside before he ruined the whole thing. He was so mad, he slammed every door in the house on his way out.” She chuckled, heading back toward the kitchen as a timer went off. Joey followed, curious to hear the rest of the story. Pacey sat down on the couch and closed his eyes. “When I got up the next morning, the pie was gone. All the kids swore they didn’t know what happened to it, but the truth was revealed soon enough.”

Doug laughed heartily. “God, I’ll never forget that moment. Little Pacey sitting at the breakfast table, slowly turning green as you made him finish his cornflakes, and then next thing you know, there’s bright red vomit all over everything.”

“The girls all started screaming, Pacey was crying, your father was yelling his head off.” Dee chuckled again. “He always has had a flair for the dramatic, haven’t you Pacey? No wonder he spent so much time with Dawson. Now there’s a nice boy who really went out and made something of himself. His family must be so proud of him.”

Joey had stopped in the doorway of the kitchen as the story unfolded, and she slowly turned her head and looked back at Pacey. He was sitting on the couch, his head tilted back, staring at the ceiling. She could see the tension in his neck, the way he was clenching his fists at his sides, and she went over and sat down next to him. Resting one hand gently on his stomach, she leaned against his side and spoke softly. 

“You ever read the works of Henry David Thoreau?”

Pacey turned to look at her, and she winced at his defeated expression. “It’s okay, Jo.”

“Sure?”

“We’re here now. Better get it over with. But you’re going to owe me big for this.”

“Uh huh.” She leaned in and brushed her lips across his cheek, then rested her chin on his shoulder. “Do you really like cherry pie?” she asked quietly. “Because when I made that apple pie last week, you swore--”

“I hate cherry pie. I haven’t been able to eat it since that day.”

She nodded. “So we skip out before dessert.”

“You don’t have to--”

“Is your mom’s cherry pie any good?”

He shrugged. “Not really.”

“Then I won’t be missing anything.”

“You still have to eat her chop suey.”

“Is it the Chinese kind with actual noodles or--” She broke off at the look on his face. “Ground beef and macaroni, huh?” 

“You got it.”

“My favorite.”

He rolled his eyes at her sarcastic tone, and she smiled and leaned in, placing a firm kiss on his lips. Her hand was still on his stomach, creating a warm spot that was radiating out through the rest of his body. 

“You know what else is my favorite?” Joey whispered against his mouth, their lips still lightly touching. He raised his eyebrows, and she smiled. “You.”

“You’re such a cheeseball,” he told her, and she grinned wider, then kissed him again. God, he loved her so much. As much as he hated being here, with his mother and Doug cutting him down the whole time, he loved being here with her. He loved being anywhere with her. 

“Joey, would you mind setting the table?”

Joey startled at his mother’s voice, and pulled away from Pacey. He didn’t want to let her go. 

“Ma, Joey’s a guest. I’ll do it.”

“It’s okay.” Joey stood up. “I gotta earn brownie points somehow, right?”

“You don’t need to--” 

“Shh.” Joey narrowed her eyes as she pressed a finger to his lips. He stopped talking. “Good boy.” 

She ruffled his hair playfully before heading over to the kitchen to get the plates. Pacey watched her go.  _ Later _ , he thought.  _ Later when we’re out of this house and away from these memories, you and I will make some memories of our own.  _ He could already feel her breasts in his hands, her lips against his skin, the feel of their bodies sliding against each other... 

Pacey tore his eyes away from his girlfriend before he got hard sitting in his family living room. One look around at the familiar decor killed that desire pretty quickly. The place hadn’t changed since his father died, which only served to make it feel more likely that he’d walk in at any moment and start ripping into Pacey. Pop was long gone, but he’d never really leave. 

Doug sat down in their father’s old easy chair, leaning back against the faded brown upholstery with his feet up on the coffee table. As he took a swig from his bottle of beer, Pacey thought he’d never looked more like Pop. It wasn’t a comforting thought. 

“So, Dougie. Anything exciting happening in Capeside lately?” Pacey asked. “A kitten stuck in a tree, perhaps? Any old ladies needing to be escorted across quiet roads?”

Doug wasn’t in the mood to be ribbed. “At least I  _ have _ a job.”

“ _ I _ have a job.”

“I mean a real job. One that makes a difference to this town.”

“Everyone’s gotta eat,” Pacey pointed out.

“Not the food you cook.”

So it was going to be one of those nights. Doug could be a jerk sometimes, but he’d also let Pacey stay at his apartment off and on over the years. True, that arrangement had always worked best when they’d avoided each other’s company as much as possible, but sometimes they’d tolerated one another for long enough that they almost got along. Being back in the old homestead was clearly having a negative influence on Doug’s mood. 

Pacey clenched his jaw, fighting his natural urge to argue back with his brother. It never worked. His mother would always take Doug’s side, and he couldn’t put Joey in the middle of their squabbles. The clatter of plates on the dining table behind them made Pacey turn his head. Joey was setting out crockery with an annoyed expression.  _ You’re fucking this up _ , he told himself.  _ You didn’t expect her to like your family, but you don’t have to be an asshole and make this awkward for her. _

Pacey got to his feet. “Let me help you with that.”

“I’m sure she’s fine, Pacey,” his mother said, carrying a huge bowl of chop suey into the room. Enough to feed the whole family, if the whole family had still been around. Far too much for just four people. “Oh, there aren’t any placemats out.”

Joey looked around blankly as Pacey grabbed one from the stack on the tallboy behind him and set it down in the center of the table. “There you go.”

“Such a gentleman. He’s obviously trying to impress you, Joey.” She smiled as she set the food down. It was burned around the edges, and looked suspiciously gummy in the middle. Pacey looked away.

“He’s always a gentleman,” Joey assured her. 

“Is that so?” Dee smiled at her son. “Good for you, Pacey. I knew you had it in you.”

He rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Ma.”

They sat down to eat. Pacey pulled Joey’s chair out for her, and his mother shot them both a knowing smile, as if he’d done it to prove a point or impress her, instead of it being something he would always have done when he took Joey out somewhere. Pacey sank into his own chair, wishing the night would hurry up and end. Then Joey smiled at him, and he felt a little better. 

His mother dished up the meal, and they began to eat. 

“So, Joey. What do you do for a living?”

Joey swallowed her mouthful of the overcooked pasta. “Well, before I moved down here I was working at a law firm in Boston.”

“Oh, really? I was a secretary at a law firm in Hyannis for a few years, when the kids were younger. I could ask if they have any positions available. It was a good job. Paid well, but the commute was tough with kids at home.” She moved her food around on her plate. “But you don’t have that problem, do you?”

“Uh, no.”

Pacey stabbed at the macaroni with his fork. “Joey wasn’t a secretary, Ma. She has a law degree all of her own.”

“You do?” His mother’s eyes widened. “Good for you, honey.”

Joey mumbled a thank you as Doug spoke up. “So what’s your plan now? You going to open your own law firm from the spare room in your beach house?”

Pacey clenched his jaw and looked at Joey, who was looking at Doug, unamused. He fought back a smile of his own, knowing how it felt to be under the glare of that look. 

“I’m taking some time away from the profession,” she said firmly. “I started interning at Schofield West right after I graduated college, and worked my butt off so that they’d give me a full-time job. At a place like that, full-time means sixty hour weeks, minimum. I’ve barely had a vacation in four years, and I was fed up with it. It was time to do something different.”

“Well, you definitely got that wish,” Doug smirked. “Since now you’re here.”

“Did you go to college in Boston?” his mother asked before Joey could snap at Doug.

Joey shook her head. “No, in New Haven.” 

“Did you grow up near there?”

“No. We moved around a bit when I was a kid. We lived in Boston, mostly. Spent a bit of time in Rhode Island, and a couple of years in upstate New York.”

“And what do your parents do?”

“My mom passed away when I was thirteen.” Joey tried to keep her voice level as she spoke around the lump in her throat that still appeared whenever she mentioned her mom. 

“I’m sorry to hear that. And your father?”

There was a protracted pause before she spoke. “He’s in Concord. I don’t see him much.”

“Why’s that?”

“Ma, can you stop with the twenty questions?” Pacey interrupted. 

“I’m just trying to get to know her, Pacey. Since you didn’t see fit to introduce us earlier, I have to do all my catching up now.”

“Well, that’s about all there is to know about me,” Joey said. “Tell me something about Pacey.”

Pacey closed his eyes. He knew she meant well, but he also knew that this was going to go badly. 

“Oh, boy.” His mother chuckled to herself. “There are so many stories we could tell you about him. Couldn’t we, Doug?”

“Where to start?” Doug mused with a smile. “The time he took a knife to school and threatened to stab the Brody kid, or the time the family dog died from smoke inhalation because Pacey got it into his head that he knew how to cook pancakes and almost burned the house down?”

Pacey dropped his fist onto the table. “Stop! Just stop. I’m begging you.” He took a shaky breath and stared at the dark wood, unable to bring himself to look at Joey. “Is it the chair?” he asked Doug, directing his anger at his brother. “Is it possessed in some way? Or does sitting at the head of the table turn you into Pop? Because you sound exactly like him.”

Doug scoffed. “What are you, jealous?”

“Jealous? Of you? Never.”

“Now, boys.” Dee’s voice was calm, civil, as though her sons weren’t practically at each other’s throats. “Eat your dinner.”

“You should be. You should be looking up to both of us, because Pop was twice the man you’ll ever be.”

Pacey’s blood started boiling. He was used to this, to being run down, but he’d hoped -- futilely of course, but he’d fucking  _ hoped  _ that his family would have managed to treat him like a human being for once. 

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means you should stop prolonging this charade and just tell us the truth.”

“What truth?”

“Is she pregnant, Pacey?”

Pacey’s jaw dropped, and he saw Joey’s posture stiffen from the corner of his eye. “ _ What _ ?”

Doug leaned back in his chair. “Because from where I’m sitting, it’s the only explanation for this--” he waved a finger between the two of them “--that makes any kind of sense.”

“Are you fucking kidding me, Doug?” Pacey’s blood was boiling. He glanced at Joey, who was sitting frozen next to him, her lips pressed together in a thin line. 

“Now, Dougie. We agreed we wouldn’t ask that question outright,” his mother interjected.

“No, she’s not pregnant. Jesus Christ.” Pacey dropped his silverware onto the table, but Joey stood up first. 

“Thanks so much for your hospitality." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she grabbed Pacey's hand and pulled him to his feet. "We’ll be going now.”

She led him to the front door, despite his mother's and Doug's objections.

“Pacey. Josie, stop.” He could hear his mother’s footsteps behind them. “Doug didn’t mean that.”

“Of course he did. You both did, clearly.”

“It just surprised us, that’s all! That someone as beautiful and smart as Joey here would--”

“Would what? Be interested in Pacey?” Joey demanded. She’d finally had enough. “Well, guess what. I am. And I’m not pregnant. We haven’t even slept together yet.”  _ Shit. Why had she said that? Why had she blurted that out to his mother, of all people?  _ Joey tightened her grip on Pacey’s hand, and he squeezed it back reassuringly. “But I’ll tell you this for free. He’s the best man I know, and I’m proud to know him, and I feel lucky to be with him. And if you can’t see that, and you can’t appreciate what an incredible son you’ve raised, then that’s your loss. Lucky for me, it’s my gain.”

“We haven’t even had dessert!” Dee called after them as Joey practically dragged Pacey off the porch. “Where are you going?”

They didn’t answer. Just went to the Jeep and climbed in. Joey was shaking with rage as she fastened her seatbelt, and didn’t speak as Pacey had pulled out onto the road. 

He glanced over at her. “You forgot to mention Thoreau.” 

She glared at him. “I’m so sorry, Pacey. I didn’t know it was going to be that bad.”

“I did warn you.”

“I know. I know.” She sighed heavily, staring out at the fading sun. “I think I get it, now.”

“Get what?”

Joey bit her lip. “How she got to you.”

“Who, Ma?”

“No. That woman.” She pulled a face. “Your teacher in high school.”

Pacey jerked in shock. “Tamara?”

Joey’s expression darkened. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring her up again. But I just...I could never figure it out. Why you would… But seeing you with your mom tonight, it made more sense.”

“You’ve lost me, Joey.” He made himself loosen his tight grip on the steering wheel. “I really hope this isn’t some kind of Oedipus thing you’re projecting onto me, because it really isn’t that complicated. Tamara was an attractive woman, and she wanted me. I was a teenage boy, and I wanted sex. It’s not rocket science.”

“You were a teenage boy who thought his mother didn’t love him.” 

“I don’t think my mother doesn’t love me.” He cleared his throat. “I  _ know _ she doesn’t.”

“Of course she does.”

He shot her a look. “Were you there tonight, Joey? Because you may have missed some things--”

“Yes, I was there. Don’t insult my intelligence just to make yourself feel better,” she snapped back. “Your brother is an ass, and your mother is… I think she does love you, Pacey. How could she not? But she doesn’t know how to show it. It’s not that she doesn’t care, I don’t think. I just think she doesn’t...think. About what she says or does, or how it makes you feel.” She sighed, then reached over and brushed her fingers against the back of his neck. “I don’t know how you turned out to be such a good person, but I’m grateful for it.”

All the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and the blood rushed to his groin. Memories flooded over him of her in this car, leaning across the seats, licking her lips, straddling his lap, coming apart in his hands. 

A car came toward them, and Pacey straightened the Jeep on the road. He tilted his head to avoid Joey’s touch. It was entirely too distracting.

“Don’t touch me right now, okay Jo?”

She snatched her hand away as if burnt. “Sorry.” 

She buried both hands in her lap and looked straight ahead.  _ Shit.  _ Pacey pulled over to the side of the road, alongside the creek, and put the Jeep in park, intending to talk to her. But before he could say anything,  Joey had opened her car door and stepped out onto the side of the road. 

“Where are you going?” he asked. 

“I’m walking home.”

“From here? It’s at least five miles, and it’s dark.”

“Well clearly you don’t want to be around me, so I figured I’d give you a chance to clear your head.”

Pacey got out of the car and followed her. “Joey, wait. Where is this coming from? I always want to be around you.”

“You’re mad at me.” She was still walking. 

“No, I’m not.” Pacey matched her long stride, then started walking backwards so he could look at her. She ducked to the side, trying to pass him, and he sidestepped and then stumbled, falling backwards onto his ass.  _ Fucking perfect.  _

Joey stopped with a short gasp. “Are you okay?”

He looked up at her. His butt hurt, and he’d lightly skinned both palms when he’d thrown his hands back to break his fall. “I’m fine.”

She crouched down next to him. “I’m sorry.”

Pacey shook his head. “No, I’m sorry.”

A flicker of a smile crossed her face. “Are we ever going to stop apologising to each other?”

“Probably not. Because we’ll keep messing up.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” she said sadly.

“You didn’t upset me, Jo.”

“No?” Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

“No. I just can’t think straight when you’re touching me, and I wanted us to get home in one piece.”

“Oh.” 

She smiled wide in beautiful relief, and he leaned toward her, cradling her face in his hands, then kissed her. She kissed him back, making small mewling sounds as his hands moved from her face and down her body, shivering as he touched her warm skin. 

“Pacey.”

“Mmm?”

“I’m not having sex with you on the side of the road.”

He broke off the kiss and looked at her. “You’re not?”

“No.”

“What about my car?”

“No.”

“The back seat’s actually pretty comfor--”

“Absolutely not.” 

She stood up and held out her hand to him, pulling him to his feet. He winced slightly, and inspected his hands. They were scraped, but there was no blood. Joey frowned at them, then drew both hands to her face and tenderly kissed his palms. 

“Do you think you can control yourself for long enough to drive us home where we have an actual bed?” she asked.

He grinned and put his arm around her, guiding her back to the Jeep. “I think that can be arranged.”

God, his hands felt good on her body. She leaned back into the mattress as he felt his way down her slender frame, his lips trailing where his fingers led. He kissed along her ribcage, planting a single kiss on each rib as he went, then drew his teeth across her hipbone. Joey arched up against him, and he sucked her skin into his mouth. Joey planted both hands in his hair and held him against her, revelling in the feel of him. She loved this so much. Loved the way he touched her, the way her body lit up underneath his gentle caresses. She’d never felt like this before with a man. Granted, she didn’t have a lot to compare him to, but she was fairly certain that on a scale of one to ten, when it came to this, he was a fifteen. 

Pacey’s fingers hooked into her panties and started to slide them down over her hips. Joey felt herself tense up, and Pacey paused. Resting his chin just below her belly button, he looked up at her. “You okay?”

“Uh huh.” To prove the point, she lifted her hips to allow him to shimmy her underwear down. Most of what they’d done up to this point had been semi-clothed, and he’d been incredibly patient with her. She wasn’t sure how he could be so patient. She wasn’t even that patient with herself. Pacey drew her panties down her legs and Joey kicked them off, then tried not to blush as he ran his eyes back up her body, his intense blue gaze lingering on the place he’d just revealed. 

“God, you’re beautiful.” He kissed her knee, then slowly worked his way up her thighs. Joey felt wetness pooling at her centre, and tightened her fingers’ grip in his hair. Pacey’s mouth travelled slowly, seductively up to the cleft between her thighs, where he let out a soft sigh. “I love you so much.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” she teased. 

He looked up with a grin, and she laughed. “Only the most beautiful ones.” Then he lowered his mouth onto her, and Joey lost her ability to speak. 

He’d meant every word of it. As he explored her sweet pussy with his mouth and hands, the words kept pulsing through his head.  _ I love you so much. I love you so much.  _ He felt her tremble beneath him, getting ready to come, but before she did, she pulled him up on top of her naked body, wrapping her legs around his and drawing his throbbing cock towards her slick, wet centre. 

Pacey swallowed hard as he felt the tip of his hardness press against her damp curls. “Jo.” His voice was strained, and she frowned. 

“Is something wrong?” 

“Condom.”

“Oh.” She lay still as he rolled off her and reached for the side drawer, mentally congratulating himself on his self control. If his brother hadn’t asked that question earlier in the evening, he might not have even thought of it. But the implication that Joey was only with him because she was trapped was weighing on his mind. He didn’t want it to be true. He had to know she was here because she loved him, not because she was trapped.

Pacey slid the condom onto himself with trembling hands. He didn't know why he was so nervous -- it wasn’t like this was his first time. Not by a long shot. But it’d been a while, even before he’d met Joey, and it had been a very long time since he’d been with someone he loved. And he’d never loved anyone like he loved her. 

She smiled at him as he positioned himself over her, the length of their bodies sliding against each other. God, she felt so good beneath him. She was the perfect height, perfect size, perfect everything. Perfect for him. He kissed her, trying to communicate everything he felt in that kiss, and she kissed him back fervently, her hands gripping his shoulders, pulling him close. He buried his head in the crook of her neck and nipped at the soft skin there. 

Joey lay still, her heart pounding. She dug her fingernails into Pacey’s shoulders, spread her knees apart and clenched her thighs around his.  _ Just do it _ , she thought irritably as he took his time, teasing her with his lips. His hand was on her breast, rubbing her nipple. Then she felt him start to slide inside her. At first, it felt good. She opened her legs wider, inviting him in. It felt right, and safe, and she let out a breath, and then it happened. Again. Joey felt her whole body go rigid, and her heart started pounding in her ears. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t breathe. She whimpered involuntarily, and Pacey stopped. His cock was halfway inside her, and she fought the urge to push him off, to make him stop.  _ You have to do this _ , she told herself.  _ Just let it happen. Then maybe next time… _

“Jo?” He was looking at her with such concern, such tenderness. Propped onto his elbows, Pacey brushed a strand of hair back off her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

She couldn’t do it. Not with him looking at her like that. Not with him caring like that. 

“I’m sorry.” She turned away, pushing him off. He moved easily, rolling onto his side. “I’m so sorry.” She sat up, pulled her knees up to her chin and buried her face against them, shaking. 

Pacey’s head was reeling. “You don’t have to apologise. I just...Joey, what’s going on? Did I do something--”

“No! No. It’s not your fault. It’s me.” 

Her voice was muffled, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. He pushed himself into a sitting position alongside her.

“I can’t hear you.” Pacey’s hand was on her shoulder, his touch light, tentative. “Please talk to me, Joey.”

Slowly, she lifted her head. She couldn’t look at him. She stared straight ahead, her eyes fixed on the thin sheet hanging over the window. 

“I should’ve told you this...before. So you knew what you were getting into. But I thought...maybe...it’d be different with you. Because everything else is different with you.” She paused, taking a slow, shaky breath. “I’m trying really hard here, Pacey. I just...I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?”

She shook her head and buried her face again, her shoulders shaking. Pacey shifted closer, gently wrapping his arm around her waist. Joey leaned in against him, and he breathed out, relieved that he could, at least for a moment, comfort her. His hand moved across her back, gently stroking her warm, bare skin, his fingers tangling through her silky soft hair. 

They sat like that for a while, Pacey waiting anxiously for her to speak, Joey trying desperately to gather the courage to do so. Finally, she lifted her head slightly, and started to speak.

“I told you once that I was drunk during my...first time.” He nodded, remembering the conversation. She’d shied away from any details. “I didn’t...it wasn’t…”

“Good?” Cold shards pierced his heart. “Consensual?” 

Joey slowly shook her head. “I was so tired of being a good girl. My mom was gone, and I’d just found out about my dad dealing, and Bessie was talking about moving out of home, and I just...I wasn’t coping very well. So I rebelled. I went to a party, and I got drunk. And I met a boy.”

Pacey’s arm tightened around her. She could feel the tension thrumming off him. 

“He was a Junior. I’d had a crush on him for a while, but I’d never been able to get him to notice me. I was kind of an ugly duckling back then.”

“I find that very hard to believe.”

“I was a nerd who wore hand-me-down clothes, and was about a foot taller than almost every boy in my class until sophomore year,” she insisted. “Anyway. The alcohol made me brave enough to go and talk to this guy, and he actually talked back to me. And I flirted with him, and he took me into a bedroom and he kissed me.” She frowned, chewing her lower lip for a moment. “It wasn’t a bad kiss,” she said slowly. “I don’t remember it that clearly. I think it was...gentle. Then he left, but he told me I should stay there and wait for him. At least, I think that’s what he said. I don’t really remember. Everything got pretty hazy at that point. I still had a drink, so I finished it, and then I lay down on the bed because the room had started spinning, and I fell asleep.”

Pacey’s heart was pounding as he waited to hear the rest. He was pretty sure he knew what she was going to say. He didn’t particularly want to hear it, but he got the sense she needed to talk about it. 

“It was dark when I woke up. I don’t know what time it was. But...I was still there. In the bed. And I wasn’t alone.” The tears that had been gathering in her eyes spilled down her cheeks. Joey’s throat closed over, making it difficult to speak. “I didn’t...realise what was happening...at first. And then I realised...that he was…” She started to shake. Pacey held her tighter, his own tears threatening. “I didn’t know what to do. I just froze. I think I was still drunk. It was...almost as if it was happening to a different person. Like an out of body experience, you know?” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, sniffling. “I just remember that...that it hurt. And when I told him to stop, he didn’t. I tried to push him off, but he held me down. He wasn’t violent. He just didn’t...I couldn’t make him...stop.”

Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks now. Pacey held her close as her body racked with sobs, pressing his lips against her soft hair, trying not to let the rage he felt spill out of him. He had to keep it together, for her sake, but he’d never wanted to punch a wall more in his life. 

“I’m so sorry, Jo. You didn’t deserve that.”

She gulped back another sob. “I was so stupid.”

“You were just a kid.” 

“I should...never have…”

“He shouldn’t have done it. He took advantage of you, knowing you were drunk, knowing that you liked him. Kissing you is one thing, but--”

“It wasn’t him.”

Pacey froze. “What?”

“It was...a different guy.” Her tears made tracks down her face. “One of his friends, I think. I don’t know. I didn’t even realise until...after. It was dark, and I--”

He buried his face against her hair. The anger coursing through his veins frightened him. 

“That’s why I don’t drink,” she whispered. “Not often. Not much. I’m too scared I’ll lose control again.”

“Understandable.” He remembered the two glasses of champagne she’d consumed when they’d gone to the movies. No wonder she’d been so offended by Mitch’s insistence that women loved bubbles. At the same time, deep down, a sense of satisfaction rose inside him. She’d felt comfortable enough around him to drink. She’d trusted him then. He needed her to trust him now. 

“I had to go back to school and see him for the next year and a half. We never spoke. Only passed each other occasionally in the hall. I never made eye contact with him. Never said anything to anyone.” 

“Never?”

She shook her head. “Nobody knows. Not in any detail. Until now, I guess.” She sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. 

“He knows,” Pacey said angrily. “He knows what he did.” He felt her wince at his words, and ran his hand up and down her arm comfortingly. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. I needed to tell you this. Because I’ve been holding it in for a long time, and I don’t want to lie to you.”

“I don’t want that, either.”

“That’s why I’ve been...holding out on you. And I really do want to do this with you, Pacey. I love you, and I trust you, I just…”

“You’re not ready.”

“I know I should be.”

“Joey.” He touched his finger gently to her lips. “Listen to me, sweetheart. I really am sorry that that happened to you. And I need you to know that you never, ever have to do anything with me that you don’t want to do. Okay?” She nodded, but he reached around and gently turned her face toward his. “Promise me you’ll always tell me if you don’t like something, if you want me to stop, if you’re just not feeling it. Because if it’s not fun for you, then it’s not fun for me.”

“Okay,” she breathed.

“And for the record, if I’d known you back then, I’d have killed him for you.”

Joey sniffled. “Probably a good thing you weren’t. I don’t need any more people I love incarcerated.”

He kissed her temple. “Fair point.”

She snuggled into his embrace, and he wrapped his arms around her tentatively. _He held me down_ , Pacey thought, and he felt sick. “Is this okay?” he whispered.

“Yes.” Joey shifted closer to him, pressing her body against his. He was still hard, but she didn’t seem to mind. 

“Tell me what you want me to do, Jo.”

“Just hold me,” she said softly. “Keep me safe.”

He kissed her forehead tenderly. “Always, my love.”


	5. Dawson Leery, Himself

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since the last chapter was so rough, and because I already had this written, I thought I'd share it now rather than making you all wait for a week for the next instalment. Hopefully this one is more fun to read than the last. 
> 
> The only content warning that applies here is in the title - this chapter includes Dawson Leery.

**_I can see you starin', honey_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Like he's just your understudy_ ** **_  
_ ** **_Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me_ **

* * *

“I did have sex with David, you know.”

Pacey just about choked on his mouthful of honey nut cheerios. “What?” He covered his mouth to avoid dripping milk and half-chewed cereal onto the table, but was only half-successful. 

Joey watched him with amusement. “I had sex with David.”

“You said that already.”

“You didn’t ask last night. I knew you wanted to.” Her fingers traced circles around the handle of her coffee mug. “Or at least, I know you’ve been thinking about it.”

Pacey frowned, but he couldn’t deny the truth of that statement. “Okay. Was it...good?”

“Not particularly.” She sighed. “He knows...some of what I told you. He knows I had a bad experience. We tried, for a while, to get through it.” She kept her eyes on the table. “I guess he got...impatient.”

“Fuck, Joey.”

She raised her eyes to meet his. “Pretty much, yeah.”

“That’s not--” Pacey clenched his jaw. “If I ever meet this guy--”

“It wasn’t his fault. He was always gentle. And quick.” Pacey smirked, and she tossed a cheerio at him. “Hey, it seemed like a good quality at the time.”

“Trust me darling, one thing I’ll never be with you is quick.”

She smiled softly. “Promise?”

“Uh huh.” Pacey stood up and walked around the table, dropping a kiss on top of her head. “We can go back to bed and I can show you right now,” he offered. 

“Tempting, but no. You have to go to work, and I’ve already had enough orgasms for one morning.”

He snorted. “No such number.”

“Regardless. You have to go to work.” She stood up and kissed his cheek. “Go put some clothes on and get out of my hair for a while.”

He ran his fingers through her loose tresses. “I’m wearing clothes.”

“You’re wearing boxers. You can’t turn up to your place of employment without at least a couple more garments. Now go on.” She took his cereal bowl from his hand and slapped his butt. Pacey jumped and shot her a scandalized look over his shoulder, making her laugh. “Get out of here.”

“I knew it. You can’t wait to be rid of me.” He grumbled loudly to himself as he walked up the stairs. 

He was back a couple minutes later, stopping to wrap his arms around her waist and kiss her neck as she scrubbed the dishes. 

“I love you, Josephine.”

“Love you too.” She turned her head and kissed his lips. “Thank you for being so understanding.” 

The tender look in his eyes was almost more than she could bear. “I’ve got you, okay? Like I said before. Nothing you don’t want to do. Ever.”

“I know. But for the record, I  _ do  _ want to do you. I just need a little time.” 

“Take as long as you need. I’ll be right here.” He kissed her cheek, right by her ear, then let her go. “And goodbye to you, too,” he said, scooping Tortuga up off the floor and holding the skinny cat against his chest. “I’ll miss you both terribly. Yes I will.” Tortuga glared at him, and unsheathed her claws. Pacey set her back down gently on the floor. 

“You’re learning.”

He held out his cat-scratched arms as evidence. “Slowly.” He ran his hand down her back, loving the feel of his soft t-shirt over her skin. “Promise me that you  _ won’t _ put any more clothes on until I get back.”

She shoved him away with a sudsy hand. “Get out of here, you punk. You’re going to be late.”

“I’m always late.”

“Not on my watch.”

“Okay, okay. I can take a hint, you know.”

“Sure, Pace.” 

Laughing, Pacey grabbed his Jeep keys and headed out through the front door. Tortuga wound herself around Joey’s ankles, meowing insistently, so she wiped her hands on a dish towel before spooning some more food out of the can into the cat’s bowl. The cat started purring as she crouched down to eat while Joey finished the dishes, swept the kitchen and wiped down the countertops, keeping herself busy to avoid thinking about what had happened the night before. Speaking her truth had been utterly terrifying, and she never wanted to have to relive that again, but she was glad she’d told him. She was glad he knew. She was proud of herself for her courage, and grateful that she had found someone she felt comfortable enough with to be able to tell the truth. 

Now, she just had to hope that it was going to help.

Tortuga brushed against her legs again, and Joey reached down and picked her up. The tortoiseshell cat started purring against her shoulder, and she smiled as she walked into the living room. She’d left her cell phone in here somewhere, and she needed to check for a message from--

“Gahh!” 

Joey’s heart leapt into her mouth and the cat leapt off her shoulder, leaving painful scratches in her wake as she hit the floor with a thump and skittered into the depths of the house. There was a strange man standing in front of the sliding door with his hands by his sides, staring at her. He saw that she’d noticed him, and raised a hand to knock on the glass. Her heart still pounding, Joey marched over to the door and unlatched it, then slid it open. 

“What the hell are you doing?”

He was tall, about her age, with short blond hair and a long, angular face. “Uh, hi.” 

His eyes scanned her up and down, and Joey scowled at him, suddenly uncomfortably aware that she was only wearing Pacey’s oversized white Rolling Stones t-shirt and nothing else except her underwear. The shirt was so worn that it was practically transparent, and the cool air coming in off the lake was making it extremely obvious that she was not wearing a bra.

_ Fuck you,  _ she thought at the blond stranger, and folded her arms across her chest defiantly. “What do you want?”

His eyes snapped up to her face. “I’m looking for Pacey.”

“He’s not here.”

“But he does live here, right?”

She arched an eyebrow. “Sometimes.”

The guy’s eyes kept travelling back to her breasts, which her folded arms were now pushing higher on her chest. Joey snapped her fingers in front of his face to get his attention back.

“Sorry. I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Dawson,” he said, to her total lack of surprise. “Dawson Leery.”

“Good for you.”

He frowned slightly. “Pacey and I have been friends since high school.”

Joey just looked at him. He stubbornly waited for her response. “I know. He told me about you.”

Dawson smiled. “All good things, I hope.” 

She just shrugged. She could tell he was fighting the urge to stare at her breasts again. She wanted to punch him. He had a very punchable looking face.

“Pacey’s not here,” she repeated.

Dawson looked annoyed. “I don't suppose you’d tell me where I  _ can _ find him?”

“Did you try the Ice House?”

“It’s not open this early.”

The arrogance of the man. “No, but it’s Tuesday. He has to be there early on a Tuesday to take the food delivery.” 

She spoke slowly, enunciating each word as if he was a little slow. Dawson’s large eyebrows lowered, knowing she was making fun of him, not liking it. She didn’t give a damn what he liked. 

“Okay, I guess I’ll go look for him there.”

“Great.” She slid the door shut and walked back into the house.

“Thanks, Sean. See you next Tuesday!” Pacey called as the delivery truck pulled out. 

The driver flipped him off before he drove away, and Pacey chuckled at their long-standing joke, then went back inside the Ice House. He still had to sort through the delivery dockets and log all the stock into the computer system before he could go back home, and back to Joey. Pacey switched the fan on in the small office and left the back door standing open, attempting to let a breeze in off the water, but it was futile. Barely ten in the morning, and the light sea breeze had already dropped to almost nothing. He’d been hoping to convince Joey to go sailing that afternoon, but if conditions didn’t improve, they’d end up spending the day the same as they’d spent most of their days lately, sweating it out in the beach house. And not the good kind of sweating, either. It would be painting and sanding and sweeping and fixing all the broken parts of the house. Not that he minded doing all that. Any time he got to spend with her was time well spent, even if she did keep teasing that she was only using him for the free labor.

He still loved that house. He’d moved back in and felt right at home again, only more so this time, because now she owned it and they didn’t have to deal with a scummy landlord claiming that they’d broken things that had been broken for years, or trying to raise the rent every couple months. Pacey shuffled through the papers in front of him, telling himself to stop thinking about Joey and get on with his work, so he could get back to her sooner. He thought of Joey walking barefoot around the house in her underwear and his t-shirt -- she loved to wear his t-shirts to bed, and he loved to see it -- probably clutching a cup of dark coffee while their increasingly affectionate little cat trotted at her heels. Or maybe she was on the couch with a book, or sitting at the table poring over home renovation magazines, sticking post-it notes on pages she liked to show him later…

_ It’s a symbol.  _ Pacey remembered her saying that about the house, right after she’d told him that she’d bought the place. Bought it without even knowing he had a connection to it, and if that wasn’t fate, what was?  _ It’s a real fixer-upper...and it’s a big risk. I’ve upended my entire life. What if I realise later on that I hate it?  _ He’d told her then that she could always sell it and move on. What he’d meant was that if she realised she’d got a bum deal with him, she could do the same. The thought back then had worried him. The thought of it now, six weeks later, terrified him. He couldn't even begin to imagine how he’d feel in six months, or a year. He wanted to spend a lifetime with that woman. Joey was everything to him, a shining beacon in his previously mundane, unexceptional life. Not that his life was all that much more exceptional now, from the outside looking in, but on the inside, everything was different. The sun was brighter, the wind brisker, the world wider and more welcoming to him. If a woman like her could be interested in him, maybe he wasn’t such a screw-up, after all. Right?

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Pacey Witter sitting behind a desk?”

Pacey’s head spun around to see Dawson in the office doorway, leaning casually against the frame. 

“Hey, man! What’re you doing here?”

“I had a couple of weeks between projects. Felt like time to come home for a breather.” 

Pacey got to his feet and pulled Dawson into a back-slapping hug. “It’s good to see you. You look good.” 

Dawson pulled a face, running his hand over his scruff as they broke apart. “Not really. I need to shave, but I only just got in. Thought I’d swing by to see you on my way past, but I got to your boat and it looked abandoned.”

“Yeah, I moved.” Pacey couldn’t hide the grin from his face. “You’ll never guess where to.”

“The beach house. I know, I ran into Doug at the marina.”

“Oh. Lucky you.” Pacey sat back down again, feeling a little deflated at having his big news usurped by his brother. “I’m surprised he even acknowledged my existence.”

Dawson raised his eyebrows. “You two fighting again, huh? You always did know how to push his buttons.”

“Yeah, well last night he pushed mine.” Pacey shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. So he told you where to find me?”

“Uh huh. And he told me about your new lady love, who Mitch had also mentioned previously, so I couldn’t resist going to see her for myself.”

“You did?” Pacey wasn’t sure how he felt about that. He was pretty sure he knew how Joey would’ve felt about that, and his stomach tensed. “This morning?”

“Yeah. I thought you’d be home. Didn’t realise it was delivery day.” Dawson scratched the back of his head with his right hand. “She’s quite something, Pace.”

Pacey’s face hurt, he was grinning so wide. “I know. I’m a lucky man.”

“You’re really punching above your weight this time.”

“Well, you know me. An eternal optimist.”

“Is that what she sees in you?” Dawson asked, a smile playing around his lips. 

“Who knows what she sees in me?” Pacey shrugged. “Aside from the obvious, of course. Wit and charm, these rugged good looks…” He grinned as he motioned to his face, and they both laughed. “Whatever it is, I’m doing my best to make it last. You staying with Mitch?”

“Yeah. I’m headed over there now, if you want to come along. Act as a buffer so he doesn’t cry all over me this time.”

“Well, he misses you.”

“Apparently. Have you been neglecting your surrogate son duties lately?”

Pacey shrugged. “Maybe a little. Speaking of which, I’ll have to decline the invite. Once I’m finished up here, I’m expected back home.”

“Right.” Dawson seemed a little annoyed by the snub, but he covered it quickly. “Come over for dinner, then. Bring your girlfriend. I didn’t catch her name…”

“Joey.”

“Joey. Right. Bring her along. We can have a proper introduction. I’m sure Mitch won’t mind.”

“You can call him Dad, you know. He’s still your father.”

“Yeah, but I’m an adult now. It feels weird,” Dawson said dismissively. “I’ll say it to his face, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried.” 

Dawson grinned. “Sure. I just hope your girlfriend is going to be a little nicer to me tonight than she was this morning.”

Pacey blinked. “She--what’d she say?”

“Not much. I think I blindsided her, turning up unexpectedly and all that. Let her know that it wasn’t my intention to make her uncomfortable.”

“Uh, okay.” He shrugged as Dawson turned to leave. “Probably just hadn't had enough coffee yet. She gets cranky when she’s under-caffeinated.”

His best friend turned back around. “Speaking of that, where’s the best place around here to get a cup of java?”

Joey was upstairs in what she’d dubbed the art studio (but which Pacey continued to refer to as Gretchen’s old room) when he got home. She’d pulled on a pair of shorts and put on a bra, in case she had any more unexpected guests, but was still wearing Pacey’s t-shirt with the giant tongue on the front. She was standing in front of her easel, adding more pink to the sky on her canvas, when she heard Pacey’s Jeep pull into the driveway. Breaking into a smile, she set her brush down and went downstairs to greet him. 

“Hey, darling.” Pacey wrapped his large hands around her waist and smiled as she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Miss me?”

“Nah.” She scrunched up her face and shook her head. “Not at all.”

“Good. I didn’t miss you either. Barely thought about you at all.” His fingertips traced the dark bruise he’d left on her neck the night before. “Hmm.”

“What?” Her fingertips flew to the place he was touching.

“Nothing. How was your morning?”

Her expression darkened. “Your friend Dawson stopped by.” 

“Yeah, he said that. He also said that he didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he said, but Joey scoffed disbelievingly. “What happened?”

“He was lurking around on the porch, watching me through the window!” she said angrily. “That’s what happened. It was weird. And he spooked Tortuga,” she added, pulling the collar of his t-shirt down over her shoulder to reveal the scratches the cat had left. 

“Aww.” Pacey kissed the raised welts on her skin gently. “I’m sorry. He probably didn’t know you were home.”

“It was weird,” Joey maintained. “Why didn’t he knock? And there’s me in my underwear, with no time to change before I opened the door, so he got a good look at all this.” She swept her arm from head to foot. “Before I added the shorts. And a bra. And he was  _ staring _ .”

“Sorry.” 

“You don’t have to apologise for him.”

“I might. Because I’m not sure how you're going to feel about the next thing I have to tell you.”

She narrowed her eyes. “You said we’d go out with him, didn’t you?”

“Dinner at Mitch’s tonight,” he confessed. Joey smiled slightly. “You don’t have to come. I know you’ve already been through enough family dinners for a lifetime, let alone for this week.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Pacey. Of course I’ll come.”

“You will?” 

“You think I’m going to bail on you? How’s that going to look? Besides. You spent several days dealing with Maggie, the least I can do is spend an evening with Dawson.”

“He’s going to be here for two weeks.”

She screwed up her mouth a little. “But not staying with us,” she said. “So that’s okay.”

“Maybe he’ll grow on you.” 

“Like a fungus?” 

Pacey laughed, and kissed her again. “Yes, exactly.”

“So what do you do, Joey?”

“Well, right now I’m a freelance painter.” She took the offered salad from Mitch with a warm smile. 

“Really? An artist?” Dawson asked. “Interesting. You don’t strike me as the type.”

Her brow furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, it wasn’t an insult,” Dawson said, helping himself to coleslaw. “If anything, it’s a compliment. My aunt Gwen is a painter, and she’s a total flake. But you seem to have your life pretty much together.” 

“I like to think so.”

Dawson loaded his fork with food. “So what do you paint?” he asked before shovelling in his mouthful. 

She thought of her current work in progress, but she didn’t want to talk about that. It was meant to be a surprise. “Walls, doors, architraves mostly.”

“Ah.” He swallowed his food. “I see what you like about Pacey. You have the same warped sense of humor.”

“Take that back,” she demanded. “Nobody has as warped of a sense of humor as Pacey. You know he still thinks farting is funny?”

“It is,” Pacey protested as Mitch laughed, and Dawson smirked. 

“Be grateful you weren’t around for the mooning phase,” he told Joey. “He was baring his butt to anyone in a ten mile radius.”

She shrugged. “Oh, I don’t know. That part I probably wouldn't mind.”

Pacey grinned at her, then turned back to Dawson. 

“Joey has a law degree, actually.” He couldn’t help it. He was proud of her, and he wanted Dawson to know how amazing she was. So he blurted it out, even though she hadn’t offered the information herself. “She went to Yale, on a scholarship no less. She’s wicked smart,” he added, and Dawson grinned in acknowledgement of his nod to  _ Good Will Hunting _ .

“Wow. That’s impressive.” Dawson cut into his steak. “Congratulations, Joey.”

He seemed sincere, so she gave a tight-lipped smile. “Thank you.”

“And now you’re in Capeside.” The question mark at the end of his sentence wasn’t enunciated, but felt implied.

“I’m on a sabbatical of sorts,” she said. “It was time for a change of pace.”

She grinned at her pun, and Pacey chuckled appreciatively. 

Mitch cleared his throat. “Can I get you another drink, Joey?”

She looked at her empty soda glass. “Sure.” 

“I’ll get it.” Pacey stood up, picking up her glass and his own at the same time. “No, no Mitch. Sit down. I know where you keep the liquor,” he added with a cheeky grin that made Joey’s insides turn to mush. “Same again?” he asked her, and she nodded. 

Pacey leaned over and brushed his lips against the top of her head, then headed toward the house. She sat and watched him go, loving the way he moved, his rolling walk, the broad set of his shoulders, the way his butt looked in those jeans...

“So, Joey. Tell me.” Her head spun back around to see Dawson’s mouth curl up in a cat-like smile. “How did you two meet?”

“I was here visiting my sister. I was out for a walk, went into the Ice House, and there he was.”

“And he turned on the charm, no doubt.”

“Well, he does have that in spades.”

“Yeah. He always has been an incorrigible flirt. It’s gotten him into trouble more than a time or two,” Dawson said with a smirk. “You’ve probably heard some of the rumors.”

“Unfortunately. I’ve also heard the truth.” She met his eyes across the table, daring him to bring Tamara into the conversation. Dawson’s eyes flickered towards his father, then back to Joey. 

“So you met, he flirted...then what?”

“Then we went out a few times, and found out we have a lot in common. Why so many questions?” Joey asked, his intense line of questioning making her uncomfortable.

“I’m just trying to figure it out. As a writer, I’m compelled to study the human condition, and to discover what makes people tick. I mean, it’d make a great story. Gorgeous Yale graduate visits small town and falls for a directionless high school dropout.” 

He grinned, pleased with himself as Mitch slapped his hand down on the table. “Dawson, I think you just found the plot of your next movie.”

“Maybe.” Dawson looked at Joey, who stared back at him with seething dislike. “The part I can’t figure out is what’s in it for her. I mean, she up-ends her entire life, leaves a successful career and moves to a new town with far fewer opportunities, just to be with him. I don't think the feminists would approve of that storyline.”

“Oh, and you care so much about what ‘the feminists’ -- by which you presumably mean women in general -- would think?”

“I have to. My first film got eviscerated in those circles, and I’m trying to avoid repeating my mistakes.” 

“And yet in your follow-up film, three women were murdered in various brutal ways by a man whose defence was that his girlfriend wouldn’t sleep with him,” she pointed out. She’d sliced a piece off her steak, but the words she’d just spoken made her unwilling to eat it. Maybe Bessie’s influence would turn her vegetarian after all, she mused as she went for the coleslaw instead. “Hardly a feminist text.”

“So help me out,” Dawson insisted. “Explain to me what exactly it was that compelled a beautiful, successful woman such as yourself to hitch her wagon to a directionless bottom-feeder like Pacey?”

Joey stopped chewing, the food turning to ash in her mouth. After a long moment, she swallowed. “Excuse me?”

Dawson waved a dismissive hand at her disgust. “Don’t take this the wrong way, I love the guy, but he doesn’t exactly seem like your type.”

“And what type would that be, exactly?” 

Her eyes flashed angrily, but Dawson kept talking, completely unaware of her impending wrath.

“I don’t know. Someone who knows what they want out of life, who isn’t so afraid of failure that they’ll actually take a chance and try something new. Pacey’s been working at the Ice House since he dropped out of high school, and has been either living on a boat or with his brother, who he hates.”

“If Pacey is afraid of failure, it’s because the people in his life who supposedly love him have told him for years that he’s never going to amount to anything, and have lorded his failures over his head since he was a child,” Joey clapped back furiously. “He started out at the Ice House as a dishwasher, and is now basically running the place. He doesn’t live on a boat, he lives with me, and he doesn’t hate his brother, although for the life of me, I can’t understand why, given the way Doug treats him. And if he was too afraid to try something new, he wouldn’t have been planning to move to Boston to be with me, now would he?”

“He did?” Mitch interjected. “When was this?”

Joey ignored him, too incensed to stop talking. “He didn’t move in the end, because I came here first, because I  _ wanted  _ to be here. Back in Boston, I _ was _ with a man who had it all planned out, but it turned out that the life he wanted for himself wasn’t the life I wanted for myself, and after meeting Pacey, for the first time in my life, I listened to my heart instead of my head. And it was fucking terrifying, to be honest, turning my back on everything I’d worked so hard for. But I did it for myself, and I did it because I love him.” 

She looked over at the house, where Pacey was just coming outside, holding two iced drinks. He smiled, and she felt some of the tension leave her body just at the sight of him. She felt so grateful, every day, to have him in her life, and the notion that he should have to explain how he ‘won’ her when she was the one counting her lucky stars to be with him set her teeth on edge.

“The real question you should be asking yourself, Dawson, is what’s in it for him?” she said, turning back to look at Pacey’s supposed best friend, who was staring at her, slack-jawed. He clearly hadn’t been expecting this outburst, but she wasn’t going to sit there and let people bad-mouth Pacey yet again. “I mean, let’s face it. This girl’s probably pretty high-maintenance herself. Most likely has some deep-seated abandonment issues, some trauma in her past. Some reason that she doesn’t trust men in general, especially the ones who try to flatter her with compliments when all she wants is for someone to talk to her like she’s a human being, and not some object put on earth solely for their sexual gratification.”

Dawson’s eyebrows lifted. “And this guy fits that bill?”

“Yeah, he does.” Joey stabbed a piece of lettuce with her fork. She’d said too much, probably, but she couldn’t take it back now. “And maybe she’s the one who can’t believe that she was lucky enough to walk into the right building at the right moment on the right day and find him. Maybe it was their destiny to meet.”

Dawson’s eyes lit up at that notion. “Soulmates.”

“If you believe in that crap.” She shrugged, stuffing the piece of lettuce into her mouth. “Which, for the record, I do not.”

“Can it really last, though?” Dawson kept his eyes trained on her as he spoke. “These two people come from two completely different worlds. Someone always has to compromise in order to make them work, so when push comes to shove and the honeymoon is over, where does that leave them?”

“In love.”

“Is that enough?”

“You tell me,” she said, staring straight back at him. “You’re the storyteller.”

“What’s the story?” Pacey asked as he walked up behind her and set two glasses down on the table.

“It’s a romance,” Dawson said, his eyes still on Joey. “At least, I think it is.” 

“Then it must have a happy ending,” Pacey said, glancing at Joey as he sat down next to her with a gentle touch on her lower back. “Sorry to break it to you, D, but this one here isn’t a big believer in happily ever after.” 

Dawson’s eyebrows lifted as Joey looked down at her plate, stung by Pacey’s casual words. She’d told him that, of course she had, and she still wasn’t entirely sure that it wasn’t the truth, but his acknowledgement of it seemed like a death knell for their relationship. And Dawson knew it. 

“Is that right?” he said, that amused smile back on his face. “Interesting.”

Mitch changed the subject by asking Pacey about his boat, and whether he’d found any good fishing spots lately. Pacey lamented that he had not, and they both complained about the lack of fish in the sea, which made Dawson roll his eyes and Joey point out that global warming wasn’t something that could be ignored forever. Mitch smiled at her benevolently and assured her that he was sure that wasn’t the case, then said something about a college education putting ideas into people’s heads. Pacey quickly interjected before she had a chance to rebut Mitch’s claim, changing the subject to upcoming films that might screen at the Rialto, and both Dawson and Mitch started talking over each other in their enthusiasm for the new topic. 

Under the table, Joey slid her hand onto Pacey’s thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze, and he turned his head and leaned over to press a gentle kiss against her temple. 

Across from her, Dawson smirked. As their conversation lulled, Joey decided that it was her turn to start asking questions. From where she was sitting, Pacey’s friendship with Dawson made as little sense to her as her relationship with Pacey seemed to make to Dawson.

“So, you two met in kindergarten, right?”

“They sure did,” Mitch said, grinning. “I still remember it, clear as day. Dropping Dawson off for his first day of school. He was so excited, and his mother and I were so nervous.” His expression flickered a little at the mention of Dawson’s mom. “He was a bit of an awkward kid, and we were worried he wouldn’t make any friends.”

“Gee, thanks Dad,” Dawson muttered, his face flushing pink. 

“It’s all said with love,” Mitch assured him. “Anyway, we arrived early to pick him up after, and waited impatiently for class to be dismissed. All the kids start walking out of the classroom, but there’s no sign of Dawson. His mom and I are freaking out,” he told Joey, his eyes lighting up as he recounted the tale. “We go inside, not knowing what to expect. Our beloved son, bruised and battered? Sitting in the corner with his head on his desk, sobbing? We had no idea. But we walked in and there he was, sitting at a table with  _ this  _ guy.” He pointed at Pacey, who smiled. “And  _ he  _ was the one who was bruised and battered, and our son was the kid looking after him.” Mitch’s smile grew three sizes. “I don't think I’ve ever been prouder than I was that day.” 

Joey’s own smile had faded. “What happened to you?” she asked Pacey. 

“He got in a fight in the playground.” Dawson shook his head. “First day of school, and Pacey’s already punching someone. You know what they say -- start as you mean to go on. Right, Pace?” 

“Something like that.” Pacey’s fingers tore at the paper plate in front of him. He remembered that day very differently.

Mitch was chuckling, too. “You always did have a knack for getting into trouble, Pacey. Good thing you started palling around with Dawson, here. He kept you on the straight and narrow, at least for a while.” 

Joey’s hand laid over the top of Pacey’s, stilling it. “Who hit you?” she asked him softly.

He lifted his head and looked into her deep green-flecked eyes, loving how effortlessly she understood him. How she had known, without being told, that he hadn’t thrown the first punch. 

“Max Brody.”

“Your classic school bully,” Dawson said cheerfully, as if he was describing a character in a film, instead of the kid who’d made Pacey’s life hell for years. “Bigger and taller than everyone else in our grade. He used to beat kids up and take their lunch money. He baited Pacey relentlessly, and he always fell for it.” Dawson’s smile was smug as he shook his head, as if recalling an amusing memory. “Hook, line and sinker.”

Pacey looked over at his best friend. “You know I did that for you, man.”

Dawson blinked. “What?”

How could he still not see it? Pacey wondered. Had he truly never realised what was going on, or was he just that obtuse? 

“He went after you on that first day,” he reminded Dawson. “You were such an easy target, this skinny little kid with a big mop of blond hair, carrying around an  _ E.T. _ lunchbox and telling anyone who’d listen that  _ The Goonies  _ was a cinematic masterpiece.” 

Mitch grinned, and Dawson frowned as Pacey continued.

“He started teasing you, calling you Oompa Loompa because you were wearing this truly dorky shorts and suspenders combo, and I stuck up for you, and he told me if I didn’t mind my own business, he’d break my face.” Joey’s hand tightened around his. Pacey kept talking, knowing if he stopped now, he’d never start again. “I told him to do his worst.” 

“And then he hit you,” Joey said.

“Yeah. Didn’t break my nose though,” Pacey said, his eyes still on Dawson. “That came later, when I got a basketball to the face in gym class.”

“You brought that on yourself. I hated that nickname,” Dawson said. His jaw was clenched, and his eyes had darkened, almost turning black. It sent a chill down Joey’s spine, and she pressed her knee against Pacey’s under the table. “You know that.”

“Believe me, Dawson. You’ve made that crystal clear.” 

The bridge of Pacey’s nose ached at the memory of that day. The shock he’d felt when he’d turned back to face his best friend and seen the basketball flying straight at his face. It had hit the bridge of his nose and sent him sprawling onto his back on the gymnasium floor. The pain had been white-hot and blinding, but worse was his disbelief that Dawson, his  _ best friend _ , would’ve done that to him, just because Pacey called him a name that he didn’t like. Pacey had always hated being called a loser, a black sheep, an underachiever, but that had never stopped Dawson from repeating his parents’ epithets, laughing it off and saying he was just joking when Pacey asked him to ease off. And then one time,  _ one time,  _ when he’d been riled up that the gorgeous new girl next door was apparently more interested in Dawson than she was in him, when he was heartbroken over losing the woman he’d thought had loved him back as fiercely as he’d loved her, the  _ one _ day that he’d purposely slandered Dawson with the hated nickname just to piss him off, Dawson had lashed out so hard that Pacey’s nose would never be quite the same shape again. 

The memory still stung. But Pacey had been more careful, after that.

“Well, I don’t know about you all, but I’m ready for dessert.” Mitch broke the tension with a forced smile as he put his hands on the table and pushed himself to his feet. “Joey, would you give me a hand to clear these plates?”

“Uh, sure.” She looked at Pacey as she stood up, and he smiled at her. “No problem.”

“Great.” Mitch gathered up the paper plates as Joey collected the salad bowl and empty platters, then followed him into the house. “I thought it’d be best to give them a moment,” he explained to Joey as he dumped the plates into the trash. “Sometimes their discussions can get a little...heated. Especially when a beautiful woman is involved.”

Joey looked back through the window to the deck, where Pacey and Dawson were still sitting at the picnic table, facing each other. Neither one appeared to be talking. 

“Why are they still friends?” she asked Mitch. 

He looked at her in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I just mean...they’re such different personalities.” 

“Opposites attract, I guess,” Mitch shrugged. “And Pacey has definitely provided Dawson with plenty of material for his movies over the years. All the escapades he’s gotten up to, the mischief he’s created?” He chuckled to himself as he stacked the platters into the dishwasher. “One thing I will say, life was never dull with Pacey around. He just loved attention, that kid.”

“Like a starving kid loves food,” Joey said softly. 

“You could be right about that,” Mitch admitted, opening the fridge and pulling out a white box. He opened it to reveal a dark chocolate gateau. “Voila! What do you think?” 

_ Welcome Home Dawson  _ was written on the top in blue frosting. 

“Looks great,” Joey said, turning her back on the man as he grinned happily at the cake. “I’ll take the plates out while you light the candles.”

Outside, the wind had picked up a little, and there was a distinct chill in the air. Summer was departing, and fall was almost upon them. Pacey and Dawson were still sitting in silence, Dawson typing out a text message on his phone while Pacey gazed out over the creek. He turned as she approached and broke into a smile that warmed her from the inside out. 

“There’s my girl.” 

Dawson lowered his phone, his interest renewed. He saw the paper plates and cake forks in her hand, and groaned. 

“Please tell me he doesn’t have a whole damn cake in there.”

“He doesn’t have a whole damn cake in there,” she lied, sitting down next to Pacey and leaning against him. He slid his arm around her waist, and she rested her head on his shoulder, breathing in his musky scent like it was oxygen. 

“Every time,” Dawson sighed. 

“I can see how that would be hard for you,” Joey snapped. “Your dad being so excited that you’ve deigned to grace him with your presence that he buys you  _ a whole damn cake _ .” She scowled across the table at him. “What, exactly, is your problem?”

Dawson’s eyes narrowed. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean, your dad’s a good guy, and he clearly loves you a whole lot. Why are you being such an ungrateful jerk?”

“What? I’m not ungrateful.”

“No? Well on behalf of two people who don’t have their fathers around anymore,” she said, running her hand along Pacey’s thigh, “we’d like to take this opportunity to tell you to pull your head out of your ass and show your own father some goddamn gratitude.” 

Dawson stared at her, his mouth open in shock, his nostrils flaring in anger at being called out. Pacey’s arm tightened around her, and Joey laced her fingers through his and held on tight. 

“Welcome home, Dawson!” 

Mitch walked across the lawn, carrying the gateau on a large plate. He’d lit some sparklers and stuck them into the cake, and they sparked and crackled as he made his way towards them, then set the plate down in front of his son. The sparklers reminded Joey of that awkward proposal that David had made to her a few months earlier, right before their waitress, Audrey, had dropped the entire dessert into David’s lap and whispered at Joey to “run”. She doubted that would happen tonight, although she wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of seeing Dawson wearing his cake in his lap, or falling face-first into it. That could be funny. 

“I know you’re only here for a few days, and this is probably embarrassing you in front of your friends, but I always say, if you love someone, you should let them know,” Mitch told his son.

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” Joey said. Turning to Pacey, she cradled his cheek in her hand, and looked deep into his troubled blue eyes. “I love you, Pacey Witter.”

His breath caught in his throat, and he wondered if she could feel his thumping pulse through her fingertips, resting just below his jaw. She smiled knowingly, and he leaned in and kissed her. 

“I love you too, Joey Potter.” He kissed her again, and felt her lips turn up in a smile. “God, I love you.” 

“You know, there’s something I keep asking myself,” Pacey said as they clipped their seatbelts and he put the car into gear. “Where have you been my whole life?” 

Joey laughed. “Just up the road in Boston, for most of it.”

“I really should’ve gone on that school field trip when I was twelve.” Off her look, he shrugged. “I had detention. Had to skip it.” 

“For?”

“Fighting.”

“Ah. Defending Dawson’s honor again?”

“Uh, no. Not that time.” 

“Beating him up?” Joey asked hopefully, and Pacey chuckled. 

“No, not that either. I don’t remember the exact incident, to be honest. I got a lot of detentions.”

“I’m shocked.” She frowned. “Was that the time you brought the knife to school, perhaps?”

“Ah. You remembered that.”

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“I wasn’t going to stab him. Or cut him, or whatever. Doug only remembers because I stole the knife off him. It fell out of my backpack, and the teachers suspended me. When Pop asked why I had it, I told him it was for self-defence.”

“How did he feel about that?”

“He took me out to the back yard and gave me a lesson in fighting back.” 

He didn’t tell her that most of the lesson had involved attempting to dodge his father’s punches, while his mother watched them through the kitchen window. It had been winter, just a couple weeks before Christmas, and there was early snow on the ground. Pacey got colder and wetter every time he fell down, until he was so cold and sore that he could barely form fists any more. He’d started crying, and his father had mocked him until he got so angry that he’d put his head down and charged at Pop, knocking him onto his ass on the snow. His father had glared at him, but when Pacey apologised and tried to help him up, Pop had pushed him aside, got back to his feet, and socked Pacey in the jaw.  _ Should’ve hit me when I was down.  _

He didn’t tell Joey those things, but the look on her face made him think that maybe she knew. As he pulled out onto the road and headed back toward the beach house, he changed the subject.

“So, what’d you think of Dawson?”

Leaning her head back against the seat, she let out a long sigh. “Pacey, I don’t know how to say this nicely, so I’m just going to say it.”

He knew what was coming. “You hated him.”

“I really, really did.”

“Believe it or not, I could tell.” 

She shot him a sideways smile. “And here I thought I was being subtle.”

“If that’s your version of subtle, I don’t want to see you being upfront.”

Joey laughed, but her expression sobered fast. “I couldn't help it. Where does he get off talking to you like that?”

Pacey shrugged, slowing for the intersection and flipping on his turn signal. “Old habits die hard, I guess.” 

“Why do you just sit there and take it?” 

He shrugged again. “He’s my oldest friend.”

“So?’

“So… I don’t know. He stuck by me through some tough times. I know he can be pig-headed and he doesn't really think about what he says before he says it, but he’s not a bad person.”

Joey’s rage would not be quelled. “He’s an entitled jackass who doesn’t deserve to call you his best friend,” she snapped. 

His heart swelled at her defence of him, but for some reason, he couldn’t stop excusing Dawson. “I don’t think he considers me his best friend, Jo. To him, we’re just old childhood buddies who knew each other back when. And to be fair to the guy, we haven’t had that much contact in the past few years. We’ve both changed a lot.”

“That’s no excuse, Pacey. He talked down to you all evening, and about you when you weren’t there.  _ Explain to me what exactly compelled a beautiful, successful woman such as yourself to hitch her wagon to a directionless bottom-feeder like Pacey? _ ” she repeated, barely able to contain her fury. 

He shot her a look. “He said that?”

“While you were getting drinks.”

“He probably meant it as a joke.” 

“Then he’s got a sick sense of humour,” she snapped. “How  _ dare  _ he talk about you like that? And expect me to just sit there and laugh it off? Or worse, agree with him?” She shook her head firmly. “No way. Not on my watch.”

“So what did you say?” he asked curiously.

“I told him that I was the one who didn’t deserve  _ you _ .”

He reached across the seat and took her hand. Her fingers threaded through his as effortlessly as water, and he softly caressed the back of her hand with his thumb. 

“You didn’t have to say that,” he told her.

“Why not? It’s true.”

He could tell that she believed it. Somehow, for some reason, she really believed it. “Thank you.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. “Really.”

She flashed that full, brilliant smile at him that always made him go weak at the knees. “Any time, Pace. I’ve got your back, okay? Nobody’s talking to you like that again. Not while I’m around. I tolerated more than I should have last night, but now I am  _ done _ .”

Her fingers squeezed his, and a vice squeezed around his heart. He’d thought he’d been in love before -- twice, in fact -- but now he was starting to realise that those had been mere infatuations. 

This right here, with her? This was something else entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I started the previous fic in this series, 'Sparks Fly', it was because I kept asking myself one fundamental question - what would Joey and Pacey think of each other if they met for the first time as adults? Answering that question in that story also led me to ponder, what would Joey and Dawson think of each other if they met for the first time as adults? Which is how the scene in Mitch's back yard first came into existence. It was meant to be part of 'Sparks Fly', but ultimately it didn't fit into that story, so...I wrote a sequel. This fic exists almost entirely because that scene was already written and I needed to find a way to share it. Hopefully it brings you as much satisfaction as it does me. 
> 
> Note: I didn't originally intend for it to come straight after the 'dinner at the Witters' scene in the previous chapter, but at least this time, Joey's inner rage monster is here to play, and from this point on, nobody gets to criticize Pacey Witter when Joey Potter is around.


End file.
